Finally got the clothes rack up.

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I knew it was going to be a beastly chore, especially solo.  Mother couldn't have reached what needed held, nor does she have the strength.  Not complaining, just explaining. 

Putting up the base boards, needing to pre drill, then use the cordless drill to screw the wood down, while keeping it balanced?  Quite a trick.  Oh, but should I need to do such a task again, I have learned a few things.  Such as starting in the middle.

Several days of rest helps.

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Was so messed up.  Some of it, most of it initially, was pain.  First in the side.  Then much more sharply in the right foot.  Cramps, aching, deforming spasms, brutal.  But then, the pains were eating my sleep, or reducing its ability to allow me to regenerate, catch my breath, refresh.  It was becoming brutal.  I was at the point of trying to make a podiatry appointment.  Couldn't get through, so I procrastinated.  Now things have improved.

I have been sleeping warmly and well the last three longer cycles.  Mostly.  Last night, my left foot tried to join in on all the fun and games.  It, too, started cramping.  Gah!  BUT, this time, I knew exactly what to do.  I took the sock off, slathered it in salve, put the sock back on, and stuffed it in a shoe.  DONE!  Oh, and croc's work, the more fitted ones.  Though if malformation gets worse, at the worst case, tied shoes work the best.  Though, when up and at things, the tied shoes are the ticket.  Just for support while walking.

I got a nice spot of things done.

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And just so far.  Wheezing.  With sleep corrupting my life, and pain, I have become a bit... weak.  Even so, I tore it up. up here.  I've worked on two other areas previously (if you couldn't tell, I definitely can).  Three steps forward, one back.  Sometimes no options other than that.  

This time, I cleared the northern end at the foot of my sleeping pallet.  Not... cleared.  Organized, nicely.  Everything there will need to be sorted before long as well, but the boxes are stacked, sorted.  There is a path in the middle, other than my medicine balls which can easily be moved.  And my new camera gear is altogether, and right there.

A bit better.

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I went downstairs.  The trip was still a bit of a hobble, but wasn't abandonedly agonizing.  It wasn't simple, normal, or even painless though either.  I did go out to bring Jasmine in.  I wanted some fresh air, and to take a few more steps.  Not a lot, just a few. 

Supper, gaming, not much else.  While the pain was bearable, it went well beyond my typical ability to block the sensations.  From the few efforts I put forward, I was sweating profusely from the amount of pain that I could consciously feel.  I... do wonder how much pain my body shields my conscious mind from.  Though I probably... really don't want to know.

My foot.

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The shoe get too tight.  I can't wear it all night.  It begins causing more trouble than adding coolmfort.  There is a risk when taking the shoes off.  Yesterday it worked.  Last night not so much.  By this morning, it was back to like walking on a broken bloody balloon of a foot.

I limped downstairs, hoping it would sort out.  I fed the cats, ate an egg breakfast mother had made, had coffee, then gamed for a bit.  But the pain, even without load on it, became eye-watetingly intense.  Nauseatingly intense.  I... surrendered the field.

Before going back to bed, in humiliatimg defeat, I took four of the strongest painpills I keep on hand.  As well, mother had asked for a painkiller salve, for her arthritic hands.  She works wonders with them, but not without pain, bless her.  Anyway, I tried some of that.

Then up to bed, with shoes on.  Well, one shoe on.  No need, I am realizing, to wear both shoes to bed, uncomfortable as they are.  The hope was that pain might soften, between sleep, medication, the ointment, and the shoe and wool socks.  It has worked!

Now, half way through, I woke in agony.  With the shoe tied, and the foot swelling, the compression became unbearable.  I tried, as before, to ignore, or "snooze" the pain.  As before, that eventually fails.  Pain makes me sweat, at some point of intensity.  Sweat was just pouring off me.  Stubborn, I am.  Even I have limits.

But, this time, I tried a middle ground.  I just loosened the ties, opened the ankle and tongue of the shoe.  Then.... tried, and succeeded returning to sleep.  Half a day?  Six to nine hours, roughly.  But, awake.  With a foot that doesn't bring me yo my knees, even eithout weight.  Oh my goodness gracious, the joy to be awake and not in waves of panic and nausea inducing agony!

Now to go downstairs, carefully.  Maybe to finish the coffee, yave some water, do some gaming.  Just... a test run.  If, and I do mean if, i can do a few light things, I may try to do a few things on our to-do list.  Putting up a secondary shower curtain.  Putting up a drying rack.  And, maybe, making supper for us.

Oh, I fried the fish the other day.  Mother said nothing, through the meal.  So I guessed she didn't like it.  I was not going to push for a comment, bit oh well, I thought it was delicious.  After I had given up on a word, either way, she... admitted this was better than lst time.

What was so hard about saying that?  It's not really a contest.  Is it?  I don't use batter.  I simply salt, lightly pepper, and gently fry in tallow.  Fresh lemon, if available.  Frying ag medium to medium high, flipping with tongs, after gentling loosening the fillets.  I work fish like no other food.  Being very careful not to overcook.  She just blasts it, like it was a steak.  Strange, but she can cook a thinner steak correctly... though too, only if she has the state of mind, in the moment, to focus.  I use timers, so things don't get out 9f hand.  She just thinks she has enough focus.  Ugh.

Not .. angry.  Just, for some food, I need a more delicate outcome.  I don't mind doing it.  If she can do it, so be it.  If she won't, I will.  And breading!  We are going to have to work up a better keto/carnivore method.  Just flouring things with almond or coconut flour is terrible.  Or even the keto blend I make.  Those work for some things, even tortillas.  But not as crusts.  Too dry, cloying?  No, not cloying, think dry, tasteless, like dried paper mâché.  Have to work on that one, though I have an idea.

moisten slightly, or dab nearly dry... the chicken part, chop, or fish, etc.  coat it in dry gelatin (good beef, flavorless).  Beat an egg, dredge the powdered meat in the egg.  Powder fried pork skins.  then coat the dredged meat in the pork "panko".  Then fry on medium, then bake to finish.  OR...  Bake first, then fry to finish?  The latter, as I prefer crispy.

Oh, right.  On to getting up, maybe to something.  Good evening.  Later. 

Better.

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Sleeping with shoes on is an odd thing.  As a general rule, I haven't done it since I was in the service and either was working extra long hours, days even, with more shifts, duties, or watches incoming.  Or was somewhere I prefered to be ready.  Not comfortable, but now or back then, it wasn't a comfort thing.  Just as when they had us not wear shoes, on subs.  When we were trying to be ultra quiet.  Yes, we did that.

I couldn't wear them the whole time I slept.  It was becoming too painful.  I had to decide whether to try to wake, or take my shoes off and hope my foot didn't spasm into malformations again.  Couln't really wake, so I took the chance, removed the shoes, and went on back to bed.

Awake, to help mom.

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She wanted to be awake by a certain time.  I happened to be awake in time to check on her.  She was awake?  Or, when I opened my door, it woke her up.  In any case, I did that, with my seeming club foot.

I just started gaming.  But my foot was cramping, again... de- or malforming.  Twisting.  So, painful as it was, I put on shoes.  They look like tennis shoes, sneakers, but they are steel toed with a steel shamk.  Keen's.  They... fortify the foot.  Hold it in shape, tighten well, for compression.

A stitch in time.

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Or in the side.  It is finally, mostly, gone.  Replacing it?  The foot pain has returned.  Was it the foot cramps which caused foot damage?  While gaming, have I wrenched my foot?  Bits of both?  Or did someone hurt me, while I slept?  I sometimes do wonder.  As hard as I sleep, it is possible.  The dropsies is a terrible affliction.  Leaves a man completely vulnerable, and the world is cruel and corrupt.  Are they seeing if I am dead, or just being cruel, if that is the case?

The brutality of the pain makes me lame, or again, if in a new way.  My right foot (thankfully just one foot, this time) is swollen in the joint, and throughout the foot, making it like walking on a bloody ballon, rather than a foot.  With the knuckle seemingly displaced.  And a constant ache to it, with added pain for weight bearing, or even moving.  Maybe wearing shoes, to compress against the swelling, and preventing it from twisting, deforming, with or into cramps, might help.  As agony goes, it's winderous, splendid, glorious.  This too, a gift to my Lord... in commiseration at the little cross I am allowed to bear.  And, to be spent as He may, for whomever may gain from it.  Even just in spirit.  Amen.

Awake.

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Trash day.  I need to move the bin out.  And brush my teeth, possibly shave.  Perhaps get some water in, game just a bit, and such.  But to get back to bed before too long.  A shower too?  Late, but maybe.  Every two to three days is best.  Daily is great, but... drying... terribly drying.

Hmm, I'll even, possibly, feed the girls.  At least check on them.  Jasmine is mostly an outdoor girl as weather has warmed.  She prefers that to the cage.  If I can ever get up here sorted, secure from dog chewing, I may allow her up here.  Or, at least when I am awake for a bit.

Mostly better.

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Still with the stitch in the side.  It isn't as bad, if oddly constant rather than intermittent.  I prefer the milder pain, even if regular.  Surprised it remains though.  It does wear me down.

Temps were climbing.  Into the mid 80s.  Then it cooled off down into the 60s.  Which is adding to a need to sleep.  Fragile.  Too hot, cold, too fast, too long, or even fast changes, and I hit a wall.  If you love to sleep, and can survive doing so?  You would love my life.