When did I go down?

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Not too awfully long after the last post.  I got my shoes and socks off?  Shoes off.  Was going to take my socks off.  Got one of my shirts off.  Was trying to figure out how to get more off.  Though it would be easier upstairs, if I didn't think I could sleep.  Got up there, got my trousers off.

Then, sat, to get my socks off.  A group, both a compression sock under, and a knee high thick wool hunting sock over.  Added compression, and some warmth.  What a struggle.  Got those off, finally, after serious work.  My legs are swollen, badly, though just in the lower areas, not up above the knee.

The relief, cooling, and that the compression, double compression really, did it's job and reduced much of the swelling, all combined to instant cooling, and a lot of relief to be free of the compression.  Then?  Then I... I leaned back, and... found an oversheet.  Then pulled the duvet on and over.  And... here I am.

That was some wonderful sleep.  Being up overnight and through into the middle of the next day, while really ill and not doing well, lends to the type of sleep only angels, children, and logs get?  As a general rule.  Sleep I did.  As if on a cloud.  Waking up around midnight.

Though, now I can tell you part of the problems yesterday.  Since... it wasn't what I feared.

The right side of my body, face, legs, hip, even torso... from time to time... would fall asleep?  Go numb.  Pins and needles.  And?  A metallic taste in my mouth.  Oh, you better believe I know what that could be.  A stroke, or a bunch of little ones?  It was terrifying.  Though, I couldn't be sure.  It might be an intermittent pinched nerve, or three.

So... for a few days there, I have been sorting, with great dread.  Could have gone in, if I suspect they... might have treated it in some lethal way.  Wrong diagnosis, immediate surgery, possibly without my input or any.  The VA isn't known for... good calls.  Then again, I have found, after being out in civvie land?  It isn't necessarily better, and can be far worse.  Medicine isn't what any of us every thought it was.  Greens fees, lawyer payable billing, and absolutely no care.  Egos and getting in on the payola, and diagnosing the most expensive procedures, diagnoses possible.  Our health is rarely, with a few of the doctors, of any concern.  As a fact, maiming and killing us seems more of a priority than healing or helping us.  Ignorance, arrogance, incompetence, and greed seem to be the keys.

So... I wasn't sure going in would do me any good.  After what they did to so many covid patients, I don't trust anything.  And, yes, they had to know.  They simply didn't care.  Especially if the patient was older, poor, white (or appearing), with any other medical conditions (most though, at this point, thanks to decades of bad nutritional advice), and male.  Though they went after the middle class pretty hard, of any other class or type.  I have preexisting, appear white, and am male by unit.  I am still on their hunting list.

Funny thing?  Doctors, last I looked, live to about 58 average.  So, they are following their own indoctrinational lead, and getting in, and out, of the gene pool quickly.  They are living what they are trying to push on us.  At least there is that.  I wonder if they ever wondered if their indoctrination of death is leading them to that, and so not such a good plan?  Can they break their indoctrination?  Go back to "do no harm, first", and life as a priority?  I don't know.  But they aren't trusted, at this point.  It's easy to see, by their examples, life isn't their goal.  They guide to death.

No, that isn't even a rant.  Just the reality I feel faced with, when considering asking for medical advice.  I... understand what the game is.  And prefer not to have to play it, unless there isn't a better choice.

Hungry?  Almost.  I think I have a steak in there.  Could dice it.  I have a growing basil plant.  Pulling a few leaves, julienning a few of those, to add as a finishing soon to be culinary trope?  Maybe.  Oh, and lemon.  Dice it larger, between 3/4" and an inch, fry it hard and fast, but not so long it finishes to more than medium.  A bit of salt, perhaps cajun spices, or just salt and pepper and the others?  Will... see...

Tea is ready.  If I think I'll have coffee first.

Oh, and yes, it was a pinched nerve.  Almost certainly.  Holding so much fluid, my lower back got a nerve wrapped around a fluid bulge, until I could pee that down enough.  Oh... but it's been a horrifying few days.  Good to be on the giggle side of rough.  I think I'll... figure things out.  Amen.