It can be so easy.

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From thinking to doing, when things are just right, it just happens. I am washing my socks. I like wool socks, and wear them almost always. I even found the special soap for woolens. I have several other loads ready to be washed. I was going to get to the dishes, but realized the cat food dishes needed cleaned first and I was getting ready to need a break. So instead I started soaking the cat food bowls. A couple of other odds and ends have been tended, thoughtlessly, in the process. Picking a few things up here, collecting things there, just... doing. It really is easy and light when I can breathe, think, remember. No pushing involved today at all.

A call to my friend shortly, a call to check on some business, a check to the bank to make sure I have enough, and maybe some shopping before I return home. When I get days like these, I use them until they are gone. I have had a wave or two of the dread malaise and flu like symptoms, but they have been both light and passed quickly. I was actually able to work on through one of them. One forced me to sit in the chair of woe for a bit, but only shortly. I still run out of breathe, but if I move a little slower at that point I can continue for a while.

Not everything is easy. I will have to push to get ready and go. It seems leaving my home, something like leaving the planet for a rocket ship, takes a lot more energy then simply flying. I suppose it is because leaving requires a shower and grooming, dressing and choosing the clothes in the first place, finding and putting on shoes, then getting my vehicle started, out of the garage, and closing that back up, as well as some other things. It is a huge outlay of resources of which I can never be sure I have. I am so used to... reserving energy, planning every move, that spending that much at one time is sort of spooky. Then I will have to deal with people. We live in a rude world, a harsh world. There is kindness, civility, and mannered interaction out there, but it is more like a blooming rose in the wild... rarity rather than surety.

But, so be it. Today is the day to get some things done. I will do all that I can reasonably do and maybe a bit more. The weekend is coming up, if I need to I can rest then. If not, perhaps I can get to the yard, or even part of it. If I can pick up fallen limbs, I will start with that. If I can do more, I might try using the weed whacker to do the edges. If I can go further, I may begin to mow the lawn in sections.

I am glad, when the missionaries came, I asked them to help me set up my weight bench the next time they arrive. I was thinking that might be a foolish hope, but I think it might be a good plan now. If I can only lift a few light sets a week, so be it. If I can get to three times a week I will be ecstatic. A bit of that might lead to walks, hikes out to the dam. Even walking half way and back, or a quarter of the way and back, would be something. Darn it, if I am going to die I would like to look as good as I can. If I am not going to die, then I better get to getting off my butt. I'm not sure how my butt feels about it. Then again I am not known for sensitivities. :p Later.

The perfect storm.

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I was able to sleep my eight hours. I picked up another two hours, after waking at eight hours of sleep, with a little effort. Why push for extra sleep? As I have said, like dehydration, deficits can be compensated but only over time, a bit at a time. Or, that is how I have found things to work for me. The rest was good, the extra rest was rough but needed as I see things. A little bit of grump time to deal with pains and discomfort this morning and I am, again, in decent shape. We will see if the waves of suffering begin today again. I suspect they will, if perhaps they may be lessening too.

I am taking the full compliment of recommended medications and figuring out how to stay 'wet enough' as well. Two or three 8 ounce glasses of Gatorade, a similar serving or two of milk, a soda or two (of which I can only drink perhaps half, as it is too filling). Further, I have bits of food. Brots, carrots, apples, and peanut butter, for now, see me to several very small meals which I can both tolerate and even almost enjoy. Other than cooking the brots, the rest is easy food. In smaller amounts I do well with food.

I just started the hyzaar (losartan plus hydrochlorothiazide) and standard hydrochlorothiazide. Those I will be taking in the late afternoon (early enough to void a time or two before sleep), with one of my glasses of Gatorade. The rest I take in the morning. The added effects of hydrochlorothiazide really helped to get rid of the extra water that was going into my abdomen, but I think if I took it in the morning with the rest, the effects might be washed out before I try to sleep, leaving me with too much fluid to sleep again.

Why do I call it the perfect storm then? Because, right at this time, I have food, I have the fluids I need, and I have a decent supply of medication. All of these things are difficult for me to both obtain and keep on tap. Like it or not, and in truth, my life is difficult to maintain without needing to keep dozens of things available. I fear falling in any of those areas. Shopping is still a struggle, maintaining focus to both realize I am low on a particular need and then seeing through to a timely purchase or reordering is difficult. And, I have finally realized I am crippled, it isn't choice so much as loss of function (which no medicine other than Ritalin has helped overcome to date). So, yes, I am afraid. Part of my unwillingness to go on medicines hinges on this fear, knowledge, understanding.

I will continue this as well and as long as I can. So far my blood pressure and pulse have not budged, other than diastolic going up to as high as 140 every third reading or so. Still, I have a few weeks before I go to cardiology. If I can maintain some focus, begin to get on some things, I might begin looking at the things D.C. and Jean have suggested in the way of more natural bp curatives. I will have to be very careful, however, regarding interactions, with as many medicines as I am taking.

But, there it is. I am riding the medicine bike, for now. I can't say how long, beside keeping the gravy trains moving, I can stay on the stuff. Often it takes a couple weeks to a month before my disability kicks in, enhanced by medicine, and goes into blackout conditions on this type of stuff. If they are wise, they will look carefully at what is happening and probably leave it alone for a bit. Any changes or additions must be done very slowly, very cautiously. I feel like my hands are bound, my neck in a noose, and I am forced to balance on a four-legged chair with one of the legs gone. Could be worse, it could have been a three-legged stool with only two legs left, I suppose. Laugh, damn you.

I take Sam in this afternoon. I may ask if my friend wants to go shooting today, and pick him up on the way to bringing Sam home. A shower, shave, and getting dressed are in order. I have enough clean clothes, but sorely need to wash some socks. I don't know what of that will be done by the time I go, but there is the game plan. At least, so far, today is better. If nothing else, my ribs don't hurt and my breathing seems a little smoother, so far. And so far, no waves of nausea, fever, or general feeling of being sick have swept through... so far.

As bad as that sounds, I should remind you, that is all good news, spoken by the tongue of a pessimist. Now for the bad news. Laugh, damn you!

Have a great day.

In the news.

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What I wrote a bit ago, about the economy, people trying to find anything which makes money but in truth often just hoping not to lose it, and the rest, seems to be borne out by this article. Not that some news reporter can be believed of and by themself, but when the evidence is in the article, and apart from it, the story is much easier to believe. Beside the housing crisis, the unemployment numbers, the national debt, and the other headliners is the notion that hospitals are running out of many medications. I believe it was something like 211 drugs, including injectibles used to treat heart attacks. Not only does this show an failing industry, it also show what happens when the world demands generics and threatens to steal the patents if they can't get a generic form for free. I do love how the left is always "surprised".

And this Weinergate thing is just ludicrous. First, he is a Democrat. Not only is this allowed in his party, assuming he did do it (which I do), it is actually supported activity. As long as you bring back the bacon to those that you owe, you could probably crucify Christ and make out swell in that party. I think the only reason this story has legs is because Weiner panicked and everyone loves seeing a deer in the headlights, so long as they have a zero deductible, they love deer meat and can tag the thing after hitting it, or they are watching from the sidelines with no skin in the game. At least one Kennedy was directly involved with the death of a woman and walked on to flourish in that party. Others have been caught having homosexual affairs with children and kept their seats. This guy's only real problem is if the media intensity becomes too much for his wife's ego. She probably knows what he is. I mean, with a name like that?

Well, I have started the "new medicines". Both of them actually contain hydrochlorothiazide. One is that pure and simple, the other is that mixed with losartan. Extra water pills might help. I am a bit hungry and a bit tired. A meal, a little time previewing the stupid tube, and hopefully I can rest. Oh, by the way, the fellow I emailed regarding the chronograph already responded. Dang but if he doesn't sound as picky, whiny, and annoying about the small details as I am. Now me, I like that, so long as I don't have to be around it all day. Ruh-rho! Ah well. And, no, I'm not like this all the time. Just lately I think. Or... about just about any product I have ever bought. So much cheap junk on the market, it's difficult to believe. In any case, it sounds like that might be the right chronograph.

Ciao.

Okay, a few things if not the things on my mind.

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The waves of illness make getting much done a bit difficult. As I get set to do something, a wave will crash over me like when I have had the flu before. In time it eases and goes, but the moments of sweat and pain and nausea leave my intent broken and I lose track of what I was doing or about to do. What ends up being tended is as random as it is light.

I set up an appointment for Sam tomorrow. She and the vet have had a meeting fated for some time. The time is here. I also placed an order from Cabela's. The last of a Christmas present and a shooting stool. Oh I know, the stool might be silly. But with my friend having foot problems and me having breathing problems, if we want to go shooting for more than fifteen minutes, for now, this with the other one will help. I also did a bit of research on chronographs. I was looking for one that both had good reviews and if shot would be relatively inexpensive to fix. With most a complete replacement is necessary. I found the one I think I would like to buy. I found a non-shill type of review, but the review was incomplete. So I emailed the blogger to ask for more information.

The last thing to be done, so far, was speaking with a nurse from my clinic. It seems taking extra furosemide (water pill) is a bad idea. Playing with fire or something, though that was probably not the best way to describe a bad thing to a curious minded man. I asked her about some other things as well. She remained rather vague so I got a bit more specific. What, I asked, should I do with my torso now filling with fluid as well, if I am not to increase the water pill? She actually told me, in that situation, to go on into the ER. She even suggested that if my tongue and lips begin to blister, going into the ER is reasonable. It is a long drive but what else is there? This means, of course, I may be back into the ER shortly.

Oh, right, she asked what medicines I am taking. I ran down the list. She asked why I wasn't taking the hydrochlorothiazide and losartan. Well, I suggested that these had merely arrived in the mail with no information. No one had spoken to me about those, even when I was in the clinic last time, and that I thought they must be a mistake, especially since I am already taking a water pill. Ah, she said. The doctor had not indicated that she call me. Well, that was cleared up. I told her I would try these. I forgot to ask her if these symptoms, a bit from the illness and a bit from the medicine, would ever clear up or if this is as good as it gets. She might not know and even if she did probably would not have discussed it. While drowning in spittle is not fun, I am pretty sure it will lead to a heart attack and rather soon. A few months at most. I would much rather die than suffer like I currently am but then live for forty years this way. I have limits.

I also asked if a home health caregiver would be something the V.A. might provide. She at first said absolutely not, since I am not technically totally house-bound. I can, technically, go shopping. I can drive. No. Then she suggested that she would speak with the doctor to see if the doctor or case worker could or would put in for that in any case. So, maybe. Just to have some one pick up around the edges, even for a short term, would make life just a bit smoother. It's the little things, if those little things have grown into monsters.

Still, I will try to keep up the medicines. With the official availability of the ER, I can go a bit farther. And with cardiology just a little under two weeks away, perhaps I can hold on. If I get some help with the dishes and the lawn, that will clear some of my personal stress, open the way to a bit more nourishment potentially, and help me level out in a more social or civil way. A few things at a time.

Later.

Truly green about the gills.

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My stomach is still a bit swollen. I am running an off and on fever. I have a general sense of illness, with waves of mild nausea. My breathing is easier, though occasionally I simply lose and can't immediately catch my breath and any activity will see me becoming less and less able to breathe until I am required to sit a bit due to choking out and waves of feverishness. This stuff makes it difficult to decide to take the medications, but I do, so far. I take the hard pills with a cocktail of Gatorade, powdered potassium, water, and ice. The drink is so filling that even at only 6 to 8 ounces it takes an hour to finish that off. With the Gatorade I can't taste the powdered potassium, but the mass of the volume is noticeably increased.

In spite of all that, this is as good as I have felt in... a while. My memory stinks, so a week or three or several months all blur. That, though slightly worse than most of my life here in Utah, is actually an improvement over life in Iowa and definitely better than any time I have tried "successful" high blood pressure medicine. I do have some memory and some time scale within which to work. And, actually, I have been making appointments well. At least recently and mostly.

So, today I will be taking a shower shortly. I will try to get a daily shower on days like this. The hope is to be ready should I hit upon a moment where getting to town and shopping seems reasonable. Once out of the house, even if I end up going downhill fast, I do get a few things done. A Sam's Club membership and various other shopping is a dire need. The brots will last a few days, but after that? My cupboards are rather bare. No, they are almost truly empty. Just getting out of the house is a good thing, all by itself.

I will also be trying to contact someone to talk to at my clinic. I need to know how much room I have to work with adding to the water pill dose, how to mitigate the nausea and fever washes, if these and other symptoms are just the way of things that I need to get used to from now on, and whether my hydration is going the right way. I simply feel like I have been left to luck through things, and really... that's too much. I neither have the skills and knowledge to know nor the fortitude and trust to simply "do". I know just enough to not know AND not enough to know better. Or, something like that.

If I don't make it to town, a shower might encourage me to some of my home care needs. While I have done some laundry, I need to do more. And, of course, dishes. Doing a load once in a while feels good as much as I hate the chore. Vacuuming is sorely needed, as is a general clear and clean. At least I am feeling well enough, within the givens, to actually begin formulating a way out of the malaise and lost ability to focus. I have a world to beat, if I could just... get... up! I am hoping showers will help.

Have a great day.

I should have known?

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Sleep, that wonderful phenomena which allows things to be recharged, reset, or whatever really happens during those phases came, finally, last night. I think I got about eight hours. I was hoping for more if I doubted I would actually sleep that long. Though eight hours is my standard goal, with the lack of sleep for the most part for the last week or more, a little more would have been nice. You can actually catch up on sleep, but over time. An hour here, a couple hours there. Much like rehydrating after a deficit, it takes time. I definitely don't feel extremely rested if too the sleep itself was rather pleasant.

What I might have been expected to know, or not, is the trick to finally getting to sleep was to take another water pill. I am set to take 60 mg of furosemide (the water pill). I initially tried to take 40 mg, then 20 mg later, to try and mitigate dehydration but that isn't very effective. So I changed to 60 mg in a single dose. While more effective, that was taken in the morning. All during the day I am fighting dehydration, so by necessity filling with fluids. Out of desperation from a day and a half of no sleep, a sore middle section, and difficulty breathing, I added a 40 mg dose of furosemide and a handful of Tylenol toward the end. It almost seems like a no-brainer. Until you begin to realize how nasty this stuff is, that I am taking large doses of potassium currently and that the diuretic might spike potassium in the opposite direction. This stuff is nothing to mess with. I did mention desperation, right? But it seems to have worked, or well enough, or just enough along with the exhaustion. The question is, do I raise my dosage, on my own, by two thirds of my original dosage and do that regularly?

I am ignoring politics, for the most part. As I see it we have RINOs on the run, feminists chasing them, with at least one Obama wannabe in the mix. Media, of all sorts, have their darlings, none of them conservative. FOX would pound it for a frog if they thought... Well, I am not sure they do think. As for internet folk? They are mostly slightly left of center on over to leftheads. Most truly aren't close to being conservative, don't know conservatives. Knowing only hard left people does not make your marginally left ideals conservative, but they simply don't know that. Unless there is a miracle, I can't see myself voting for president. And Christie, for example, ain't it. Oh well.

A few news pieces that caught my eye, made me chuckle or positively feed my negativism, and perhaps a few comments on each is next. I have been pulling this to my "use" folder, but have been in such bad shape, remembering to use them, figuring that all out, and just doing it has not happened.

Something about a black bikers weekend. I don't think this is exactly Sturgis for da bros, either. I could be wrong, but...

MYRTLE BEACH, SC (WMBF) - During this busy Memorial Day weekend on the Grand Strand, police have seen a number of crime reports coming in.

Everywhere and always, but like the continuing unemployment (and the real numbers on that), the price of gas, and the continued devaluation of the housing market, this is always... unexpected!

This next just baffles me. When I was a kid in poor white towns across the Mid-West, we knew nothing of government assistance in getting us off our asses. Somewhere between our parents wanting us out of the house, our imagination, swimming holes because there were no official swimming pools and they were expensive (to my family anyway), and other factors, we went and did. We were expected to work, at least enough to help pay or fully pay for our own clothing (and it wasn't an issue). Walking beans, picking rocks from farmer's fields, short stopgap things. We got some of the money, some of it went to clothes, that was just the way of it. Government programs? Really? It must be a minority thing that has grown to become the status quo for everybody. A race to the bottom with minorities being used as the bar at which to aim I guess.

This next is just for some people. But all can point and laugh. It seems intelligent folk have peculiarities which tend to be negative. While I agree with most of the assessments to a degree, I believe the explanations of the downside and the situations themselves... were written by the not-so-bright. If I had to guess, I would say a scientist got together with a statistician. Scientists are very good at separating phenomena for evaluation, then they fumble causation like a crack addict fumbles his rocks. Doh! For example, the reason genes are less likely to be passed on is because "bright people", especially in the secular world in which we live, have figured out how to get honey while avoiding the bees (babies, wife, duty, the expenses, pains, or perceived negatives in a secular world view). With some considerations, a stronger will to get only so much, a little dab will do ya. I think I am bright and I am almost sure I have visited more flowers than the average bee. That's all I'm saying on that.

Well, enough of that. Back to me. I still... Blah, blah, blah, and a couple more blahs. Shu-hush. The really sick get some sort of pass on being self-centered for a bit, I hope. Of course, it is about time I figure out how to get unsick. This is getting old even for me. Later. Have a great day. And remember, if you can't laugh at yourself... pick someone else. Like shooting fish in a barrel, I say, I say.

Green around the gills.

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I tried to sleep earlier but could not get comfortable. After a couple of hours down, and a good deal of pain, I just got back up. So tired. So very tired. I decided to cook the brots. Everything takes so much longer when sleep is needed. It took a couple of hours of thinking about it to simply light the grill, let it heat up, and plop the brots down. Such a simple task. Without sleep doing anything is like trying to drive while inebriated. I overdid them just a bit, but they were still quite good. A hot meal is always good.

My mother called to let my know my brother made it out of surgery in good shape. While talking with her, he suggested that his side hurt. I had to laugh, and explained that I wasn't laughing at him, more about him. Which was fine, she had chuckled about it too, while talking with him. Sometimes I can't tell if my... reactions, notions, words, are too harsh, too soft, or reasonable. She will be checking on me a bit more. She wanted to know what, if anything, I had figured out today. It was good to let her know about my various phone calls and at least that one appointment. That seemed to ease her mind to know I am trying.

Sassy is acting really odd. I am not sure what that is all about. Perhaps as the weather has warmed the bats are moving around in the walls. Perhaps it is merely the warm weather. It could also be my recent inability to be as attentive as usual. That and I have not let the girls in to sleep with me in a very long time. Since I have to constantly be rolling and adjusting pillows I simply cannot welcome their company. I miss that though, a great deal.

It seems my lungs are not the only things which are swelling. My midsection is too. I had not realized that was something that could also flood with fluid. A little more reading about heart failure led me to the notion. That explains some of the panting and lack of thirst and hunger. It is also the primary reason I can't sleep, as I think about it. Remember when I suggested that it felt like my abdomen had been used as a punching bag? That is why. The lungs, though, are still full, which doesn't help. But I think the sore ribs, as the pain is expanding, is the primary reason I can't get comfortable. I am going to take a handful of Tylenol, wait an half hour, and then try to sleep again. I am so tired my eyes keep trying to cross and my head does the whiplash jerk every so often.

Good night, I hope.

Still awake.

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And still I can't sleep. The last time I slept was a nap yesterday in the early afternoon, for an hour. Before that, I slept well the preceding night. But before that I could not sleep well for a week. I have the rales, my chest is full of fluid, in spite of the flush in the ER and going back on my medicine. I am hydrating a bit more, but I have no choice. Trying to cut a balance between drinking enough and allowing the water pill to work, I am constantly on the verge of a blistering tongue. Up 29 hours with little hope of sleep until I collapse as well.

I called the clinic until I could talk to someone. She seemed curt. I was transferred to a nurse. I only got her answering service. I did leave a very specific message. This isn't going well. I will try again tomorrow.

A fresh breathe.

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No, nothing has improved. My mother called. She offered motivation and suggested I move aggressively. That was the push I needed. That and the fact that I can't get to sleep yet. I called both my clinic and cardiology. My clinic has been called last week and today. Last time I was routed to a message service for the case manager of my treatment team. This time I wasn't even sent there, just put immediately to a general message service for the clinic. The calls to cardiology were similar. Last week I left one or two messages at the cardiology clinic itself, after learning their specific number and calling them directly. This time my call was routed away from cardiology and back to general admissions with a 10 minute wait. I think they are avoiding me. I didn't wait because I know from previous calls that appointments have to be set up by speaking to someone in the cardiology clinic itself, which is how I learned their direct line number. I wish I had another phone through which to call them and check that.

There is not a lot else I can do. If this continues, my mother suggested driving to their ER, again, and insisting on admittance. Of course, that means taking Sam and Sassy to a place for boarding. While I could put enough feed and water for them for a few days, more than that would be more of a risk than I would care to take. Sassy has some issues with the water dispenser. The gurgling sound as water enters the bowl after drinking peaks her curiosity so that she knocks the thing over. That is a last resort, in any case. Beyond, I am almost certain they would not take me in. I am considered a problem case. To be honest, they should have taken me in already and long ago.

I don't really care about some treatment options, they aren't open to me. However, I would at least like to see a cause of the congestive heart failure, find out how serious this is, if it is terminal find some relief to my symptoms and begin making plans, or whatever else I can find out. At this point everything is still quite up in the air and I don't have a follow-up appointment until the 29th. I won't last on the diuretics that long. And, as I said, after reviewing Lisex, I realize that going off that treatment is exactly what I should have done.

What would you do? Remember, you have almost no energy. You can't always think straight and have to plan trips around lack of sleep. No one can drive you if you have a more serious complication. And the medical field seems rather put-off or disinterested. Well, other than pray you don't one day end up on Obamacare too?

Update: After some robo-calling, I finally got through to the cardiology clinic to schedule an appointment. The soonest they could see me was the 13th. I asked if they could put me on a call list as well, in case they had an appointment cancellation. I can only be on one list, an appointment or call-up. I chose the appointment. I also called my primary clinic several times. After listening to the message a few times I realize there has been a change in staffing, which is why I had thought I was being sent to general messaging. It might explain why I didn't receive a call back. So, this last time, I left a message, again. I would love to sleep but a) I can't and b) I need to stay up until at least 16:00 in case I receive a call back.

What to do?

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I could not sleep last night. I could not find a comfortable position. Tired as I was and remain, five hours trying to find a position in which I would not pant was impossible. Sitting up seems okay, back to where I was a week ago. But palpitations and panting and pain is all I find reclining. I need sleep so badly.

I am back on the water pill, I am taking carvedilol, I am taking potassium, I am drinking Gatorade, and it simply is not sustainable. I would like to call today, to my clinic and cardiology but in my condition it might not happen. I need to be able to communicate by voice, I need to be able to think straight, and right now I can't. As well, now, I am having loose stools. I would guess that is from adding in the potassium. None of the other medicines have done that and D.C. suggested calcium might. I will continue taking this stuff until I can talk to someone. Oh, fluid voiding has dropped to a trickle and has become extremely yellow, verging on yellow-red. What a mess.

I can't remember if I mentioned this, but the missionaries visited yesterday. I asked if they might know anyone who might do a bit of house and yard care for a reasonable fee. I don't have a ton of money but I have enough that I can't really consider charity work. Well, we will see. At $100 an hour, charity would have to become a part of it! Mowing even twice a month and dishes once or twice a week might see to me being able to eat a bit better and feel more comfortable as a social being. Feeling to bad to work on the lawn and yet having a sense that I need to tend it just ends in frustration.

Well, enough about that. I am going to try and sleep again. I am hoping to do some grilling today. A couple of packages of brots ought to see me good for a few days at least. Later and hopefully, good night.

Already deeply dehydrated.

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Dehydration is already back and in full force. While I have been trying to drink, my ability to consume much in the way of volume is closed to me. I have looked online for advice for prevention while taking loop diuretics, I have so far come up empty. The nap was okay, though I could only sleep an hour. And my stomach feels like it is recovering from having a bowling ball thrown at it a few days ago, again. Breathing is a bit better but my marathon for today is off! I do feel like I am trapped, medicines merely seem to prolong the agony while going off the medicines intensifies the agony without really speeding up the dying process.

A decade and a half ago I would have had a solution. Odd, but the notion doesn't even cross my mind these days. I just limp around and grumble. A little food might help. Brots, bread, milk, mustard, and horseradish should do the trick. I can't get to dishes but I can grill! Probably... soon... maybe...

I suppose I will keep searching. One odd thing I noted, all of my illnesses and pills seem to directly or indirectly add to confusion, disorientation, fatigue, and... the rest of my static problems. It is almost a wonder I can write. Sometimes, at blogs, I can't read so I come back later or just have to skip things. I feel like another nap already, but I will hold off. Besides I know I could not sleep. I need to charge exhaustion up for as much single period sleep as possible, when I can. Definitely going through a brain drain though.

I sure hope someone out there is having a good time! Grilling or cooking, feasting, and enjoying company and family. Knowing that is going on actually is a little cheering. Hmm, brots might happen sooner than not just for that.

Better. Still needs work.

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After getting up to an almost normal day, I found the mail I picked up yesterday. The part for the reloading press was in. I figured it was small, and being tired I did not want to open it right away and lose it. I found the part, installed it, and tried the press. It seems to work, after a bit of fussing. I will do more later. I simply wanted to get to something functional.

I am still rather wiped. Breathing has improved but putting three or four tasks together is still taxing. Between continuing to remove fluid and trying to eat a bit, an apple so far, along with regular sleep and maybe some naps to catch up if I can, it will be a few days before the rig is ready to roll again. I did note, however, that some scratches that weren't healing, weren't even scabbing correctly, have started to heal. I can tell by the itch factor and obvious signs of scabbing in a few cases. Living with cats will mean living with scratches. Rare as they are, since they haven't been healing for some time, they have sort of collected here and there. A good sign, a very good sign.

I do think, if I take things slowly, that I will be able to kick out the dishes and laundry in the next few days. Beyond better breathing, concentration is returning. A good nights sleep helps with that as much as anything else, and I got one last night. It is amazing how fast not being able to sleep well will impact mental acuity, concentration, and the rest of it. That is part of why I work so hard to sleep eight hours (and up to ten). Too much sleep, though, can be nearly as detrimental. It is odd how tight our parameters really are, for healthy living. And it is amazing how little can knock me out of that window of health. Just that there amazes me. Men go mad and do end up dead when they can't regulate well. I have learned patience, a bit about temperance, if I am only working on trust.

You know what though? A nap. Yes indeed. I will set the alarm for two hours and I think it will work today. After that, I am hoping to pop a load of laundry in and do one load of dishes. Then look for something to eat. I would also like to call my friend and arrange a shoot-out at the... some place close sometime soon. Oh, and I will be calling the missionaries. I think I will ask if they can help me set up my weights. Light and easy, low and slow, but I feel the need to get back into straight weights again. Empty barbells, dumbells, and curling iron will be a humble start after getting nearly to a 400 bench press and the rest in line with that the last time I started, but... shut up. I suspect it will take me all summer just to get up to spec and begin light loading. Maybe I will surprise myself, but I really won't shove and push, not yet.

Nap time! Have a good day.

Well, okay.

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I am actually breathing easier this morning. While it isn't perfect it is actually much improved. I slept fairly well, and nearly a full night. My attempts to squeeze a little more shut-eye out of the pillow came to naught. I was able to get up fairly easily and pretty much without chest pain caused by having a chest full of liquid. I didn't have to take it slow or easy, though doing much more than that will still probably require a bit of a light touch until I can get back on my feet, if that actually is possible. I still become a bit short of breath from a combination of light activities. It sure beats having panting attacks just sitting. Since I am going back on a diuretic, I will go back on the heart medicine and potassium. For the first week that is all I am going to try and balance. Toward the end of the week, depending on needs and how Gatorade is working, I may go back on the other supplements. If I am having problems, I may just cut the dose of the diuretic and call someone... if I'm not in too bad of shape to... get right on that.

I was simply too tired after everything yesterday to remember to investigate the term "congestive heart failure". While it has some meaning, some specific qualifiers, it is just as vague as the term "headache". And worse, getting any real grip on the thing is impossible. It seems as if doctors and authors like using terms to their advantage. If they think you are afraid of death, why then the thing is down right terminal if you don't follow their instructions to the letter. If you overreact or balk at death threats, well then the disease merely becomes something you ought to, as a moral condition for living, tend. Like women, I don't even think doctors themselves know the truth anymore.

A visit to cardiology and finding one doctor there or at my primary clinic to lead the treatment and give me a top-down assessment, and then making sure there is follow up so when I can't be compliant and am perhaps too exhausted to be a squeaky wheel I don't just slip away is about all I can try to arrange. Hey, if I can pull another half a life out of these bones, so long as there is some meat with the soup of life juice, I'll do it. Might even start looking for a hen, one that lays live young. Of course, maybe through out this thing, they can help me to more function beside just better health. Why I bother hoping on this stuff, I just can't be sure. But if they are going to promise Christmas treats and presents, I might as well ask if I can stay for dinner, nyet? Well, it is a plan.

Today is merely a day of recovery. I will try to get some of those home things on my list. Laundry languishes, dishes rebel, basic upkeep would be good. But if I can just have a day of relative rest and relaxation and not choke on my own breathe, I might just enjoy it without much muss or fuss. I'll fight when I can but I've just fought for breathe for a week. Nothing like being in a foxhole with an elephant stuck in there with you to wear you down a bit. Oh, wait, it was a RINO! Bah!

It is raining this morning, again. Oh cheer. Still, I really don't care. As long as I don't have to literally swim, let it pour. Me and the other cats will just hide out and chase whatever tails we see when we get bored. Have a good day, or a great one if you really have to!

???

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I made it in, after having a large meal at McDonald. I was starving. They did an x-ray, a CT-Scan, and another where they wired me up. Some blood testing was done. And then they watched my vitals for a while. Even after that huge meal, my blood sugar as tested through the finger vampire yielded only 160! I could easily say 40 of that could be removed because of the meal. How much else could be removed from having a couple of sodas before heading out in order to head out? Long story short, I seem to be in excellent condition. I seem to be suffering from congestive heart failure. Assuming the reason for the congestive heart failure can be found and treated, I am told I will do quite well, living every bit as long as anyone else. Further, I am told nothing vital is out of order. The issues found are mild and probably quite correctable. I was given an order for diuretics and sent home. They can do nothing else for the breathing. Isn't congestive heart failure, well... a really bad thing? I am going to look it up. I thought I had. If so, I must have forgotten whatever I read. Every other doctor says I am dying or conversely to begin planning for the next half of my life. And they call ME bipolar.

Hey, didn't I just see this show? This time, when they added the liquid form of the diuretic to my injection site, I ended up voiding 24 ounces there and probably another 10 to 14 ounces when I returned home. I can't say I feel better. Well, the headache is back. When I complained about the conditions regarding taking the diuretic I was told I would be put on a lesser dose and sort of told those conditions shouldn't recur, if they do just call back in. Arriving home I compared apples to apples. Same dosage, one was generic and one was brand name, both were prescribed at their lowest dosages. Well, I will try again. I now have supplements to take along with it, if I can keep it all going.

I also stopped to pick up my new scripts and do some shopping while I was at it. I now have gatorade, as well as milk, a bit of bread, and some meats. Even if I can't get to the dishes soon, yesterday while I was out and smoking my pipe I lit the grill up and burned it clean. I can begin using that to some degree. I also grabbed a few other odds and ends.

My breathing, actually, might be better. Only slightly and I will see in how well I sleep. I do, however, now have a pretty horrible headache. I took a few pills for that. Pills pills, the more you... Never... mind. The headache could be from the sudden voiding of so much fluid. It might also be from shopping. I had to go slow, pick things up and place them gently, and take my time needing to catch my breathe ever so often. I also kept my mother apprised, calling here when I went in and shortly after returning home.

I don't think they understand. This is probably as close to being waterboarded as one could legally get, at this point. The difference? I don't know when this will end, or if it will end. I will try to contact my primary tomorrow, and cardiology as well. I need much closer follow-ups in any case, or I will drop the medicines again. If I have issues with the medicine, they have to be able to suggest something besides "Just keep taking it, you'll be fine. Those blisters on your lips and tongue, and the cramps, will all magically get better and go away". Gah! What a mess I am in. At least, according to the most recent accounts, I am not really dying... probably.

Oh, I am not editing this, at all, tonight. I am dead dog tired and I need to sleep. I can't focus at the moment. I hope it makes some kind of sense. Good night.

It took a bit to call.

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I couldn't get my brain screwed up tight. I have to have some clarity of thought and an ability to speak before I will place a call, even one like this. Actually, more so one like this. All I wanted was advice, possibly a medicinal option, to be honest. Perhaps they might have just suggested head stands or something. At worst, I thought they might ask me to drive to SLC. And, I might have if it would have been in and out. It's tight enough being out as is, but being out for four or five hours on top of driving two hours each way would not be doable at the moment. I thought I might have to threaten them with going into the local ER. Bah!

She told me to call 911. Stubborn to the end, I won't. I will, somehow, take a shower. Then I will drive in and put some food into my face and pick up some tobacco. Groceries, of course, will wait. Then I will go to the ER. I would take my friend along but that is one of the most drawn out, boring, nasty tasks available and I won't drag him into it. I also will not stay unless they promise to either offer relief or let me go in the morning after trying and failing. Then again, if they are like every one else I have seen, I will hear something high blood pressure something, you are going to die, take these magic pills (same old same old) and we will give you some others later, goodbye. Just fragging help me breathe! Dang, it can't be that hard. Oh, one thing I will pick up when I buy tobacco, to be sure to remember it, is gatorade. Dehydration comes up often when looking at many of my issues. I have stopped the diuretic and am on supplements, but I may still be critically low on some things. I am sure I am still low on potassium.

Oh well. Don't you hate it when you hit the ground running with an extremely aggressive plan only to find your plan is considered mild and a bit dated? Who knew? Talk about going out with a raincoat, flashing on the mind, and a real intent... only to somehow find oneself in a nudist colony. So, in I go... after a little bit of grooming. Later.

Being unable to sleep makes it hard to think.

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I just saw a study where a number of adults, who believed they could cut their sleep from a standard eight hours to various levels (but the goal was to cut three hours of sleep from the baseline). Some end up not cutting any time, some only cutting one, some others cut two, and still others cut three hours from their sleep schedule. People only cut what they were or became comfortable with. After then being tested before, during, and after the cuts, it became absolutely clear that digging into one's sleep is akin to having a shot or two every hour and insisting everything is just fine. While it may feel fine, it isn't. I am so far from feeling fine I can barely talk sometimes. It is simply that I cannot get to sleep or stay asleep. That is about 90% of my problem since I left the service, it simply isn't bipolar. I either can't sleep or I don't sleep well.

My problem, right now, is that I can sleep even less regularly than usual. This make figuring things out a bit difficult. I have realized doctors are absolute idiots. Perhaps they were trying to use this issue to break me down so that I would go back on one, the other, or both of their failed medicinal regimens from the past. That isn't going to happen. I now realize what the problem is. My diaphragm is cramping. My stomach is hard as a rock, I can't press in with my hands. Do 50 to a 100 setups and you will get an idea of what I am talking about. My abdomen is in a state of near permanent cramp. I need them to figure out what will allow that to release. The problem, even with one to two liters of fluid in each lung, is not the lungs. I am forced to take short breaths and don't get much air in. I will be calling the ER today, hopefully to speak to a doctor whose head is out of his butt or whose head I can pull out of his butt. Pain pills, of any kind, do not work. But I am sure something would help. I am almost wondering if that cramping by itself is enough to cause (or allow) the pulmonary edema and it certainly doesn't help any other condition.

I need sleep, I need rest, I need easier breathing, and I don't think it is all that difficult. I actually think some of them know what the problem is, how to fix it, but aren't doing so. They need me for procedures, that is how they fund the various clinics. I hope if the funding changes for medicare go through, success versus procedure based funding, that the V.A. is given a solid review as well.

I didn't get to much yesterday. I have soaked the dishes a number of times but never quite got to them. Though I felt good for a short while, the cramping returned, finding sleep has been brutal, and it's just been too rough. If the doc can offer something, I will drive down today to pick it up. If he gets all squirrely, I might have to suggest that, with shortness of breath and their seeming inability to deal with it, I might not be able to drive that far so I might have to go to the local ER, perhaps by ambulance. While we would all be sad to see the V.A. not make a dime off my care, and actually have to pay out some unGodly sum, some things might just have to be dealt with as they may. If the V.A. doesn't care to get involved, maybe someone else will.

By the way, in spite of various complaints about the local medical collective, if socialist seeming, I have it on good authority that it is a rather solid system of health care. I have heard it listed with Mayo and a few others. At least there is that. But then, and again, in spite of my complaints and such, I think I had indicated (when they can stay on topic) that they offer top notch service. (If I still think government run will always end up in the toilet, it's always one election or bribe or legal difficulty away.)

Anyway, have a great day. Hey, buddy, could you spare a breathe?

Whatever works.

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My morning was a morning of whiplash, too tired to stay awake so constantly fighting constant nodding off and yet having lungs too full, chest fullness pain, and some other stuff to sleep. After four or six hours of that I finally surrendered and tried to sleep again. It took a good bit to find a comfortable position. Actually, I never found one. Instead, sleep found me, surrounded me. Four more hours of sleep saw me up and somewhat rested.

Why my lungs are full now but not later, when they fill and how? None of my business I guess. All I know is that I am at best able to sit without panting, at worst I am panting, unable to sleep, needing sleep, and unable to find any comfort. What I take in the way of medication has zero effect, other than adding side effects. Is the medical field completely incompetent, is my body just too different, or... what? I will say that having quit everything but the Flinstones chewable, my life is much more comfortable. I was drowning in a dozen minor but quite annoying side effects on top of not finding one ounce of relief. As is, all I have to deal with is my breathing problems. While that is bad enough, adding in side effects is like being beaten by a main attacker while being kicked and pinched by his girlfriend.

Another oddity is that, since I ran out of long cut snuff I have taken to smoking my pipe. I usually keep a bag or two of various smoke around, just for such situations. While I feared smoking would aggravate my breathing problems, between my inability to get my butt in gear and my addiction, the pipe has become a regular use item. As I said, my breathing is not at all bothered. The only change I can tell is that my coughing, which had become progressively worse and worsened my breathing from time to time, has vanished. When I make it into town, beside picking up some replacement pipe tobacco, I will be buying leaf chewing tobacco. I think with my dehydration, the grains of even long cut snuff aggravate my throat by drying into place along the throat and becoming an constant irritant. Just plain odd.

Feeling better after the nap, if still having problems, I have opened the windows, set dishes to soak, started a bit of picking up, and will be doing a few tasks that need attention. I don't know how far I can get. Pushing past the exhaustion doesn't get me anything but trouble. If I can just find a very slow pace that is sustainable to some point I might actually get some things done. I am considering tools that might help me. For laundry, for example, a cart to pull the laundry baskets rather than bending, lifting, carrying, setting down. It seems like a minute difference, but every ounce of effort has to be considered. I am so used to, when I do something, just full force doing it, that this is taking some adjustment. I hate it. I used to do four loads of laundry as fast as I could. My only problem with getting that all done at once was remembering to get to them.

If I can get a load of dishes done, collect recyclables, and see one load of laundry through, I may try to bribe myself into town with the promise of an easy meal. I need a bit of tobacco, a little milk, perhaps some bread, and apples, oranges, and pears would be good. I may become a member of Sam's Club online this weekend. I keep... thinking that over. One advantage to them is, I could order online and pick up the order the next day. All I would have to do is back up my vehicle to the loading area and drive home with enough for a couple of weeks of eating. And all of that food would last should my lack of ability to eat, cook, and clean remain in effect. Further, adding to that slightly over time would be quite simple. Perhaps this is not the best or cheapest way to load up on a couple of months worth of food, but at this time, in my condition, it is probably as good as it gets.

Of course, something else that might be helping is warmer weather. I honestly don't think the doctors have a clue as to what is really wrong. They see the high blood pressure and stop thinking perhaps. Much as they used to see a mental health diagnosis and then quit looking for any health issues. Apparently either those with a diagnosis are not capable of physical ailments or those ailments are secondary to psychology no matter what or someone with a psychiatric diagnosis can only be healed by liver damaging psychotropics or people with a mental health issue (real or not) are not worth treating. I know some of you actually believe in psychological and psychiatric voodoo, I don't. I am having difficulty finding validity in standard medicine. I think they not only could, but would, diagnose a cat with depression, if they thought it was as lucrative. Wait... don't they?

Have a good day. Later.

Some nights are simply awful.

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I can't tell why one night can see me finding sleep and then sleeping through the night and other nights being brutal. I was quite tired last night. I have been working on my schedule, trying to wake early and stay up until evening. It has been easier since sleeping is sometimes painful and sleeping beyond pretty much a bare minimum almost impossible as the pain becomes seemingly exponentially more painful every hour beyond some point.

I was having trouble even getting to sleep. Having, for the most part, given up on even Tylenol I could not get to sleep. My ribs and diaphragm simply hurt and breathing was nearly impossible. After a few hours of trying, I finally relented and took 2k of Tylenol. I still had to fight for an hour, after waiting an half hour before trying to sleep to give the medicine time to work, before I could settle in. About four hours later, I woke in the same condition I had initially started with. I could not find a position which eased the pain enough or allowed me to breath enough to sleep. After an hour or two trying to get back to sleep I took more Tylenol. Eventually I returned to sleep, waking just three hours later. Tired as I am I had to simply abandon hopes of real sleep last night. I would love to nod off, anywhere that might be comfortable, but as soon as I do, I end up waking as I end up shifting into a terribly painful position or into a position where my breathing becomes an issue again.

So far I only get nights like this one or two times in a row and then I catch a break. I never sleep well though, not really well. Once or twice a week I will sleep through the night and almost feel rested in the morning. Lack of sleep, like this, won't kill me. It might add stress to other problems. At this point, everything is doing that. I wish I knew what allowed things to get better and what to avoid. Then again, I couldn't avoid much more as I do, eat, and drink so very little. Even if I wanted to add activity, that isn't really possible. All I know is that it sucks to wake up choking for air and not being able to get it.

Later.

It was a thought.

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There for a bit I almost thought I could get to town. Time passed and nothing happened. Getting up to feed the cats a couple times (I feed them half their feed, wait an half hour, then give them the rest in the hopes that Sam won't barf) I found myself completely exhausted and winded. After that let up, I did call the clinic. I want something to ease the breathing, some kind of medical prognosis, or... something. All I connected with was a message service though. I will be surprised if I hear anything back any time soon. No other calls have been returned, from any of a number of people, lately.

If I get to any kind of function, and can concentrate, I am hoping to do the laundry and dishes this weekend. If I was often tired before, I am constantly tired and distracted now. I can't seem to make heads or tails out of anything, and initiative ends with little done save sucking in air for a half hour and a deeper misunderstanding of my environs. If it only gets worse from here, it might not be bad. I will be back to Nothingsville. I won't see it coming.

I keep seeing stories about how people are, statistics about this and that, and I see the shallowness most people posses. Of course, I have to wonder if shallow is the right word, or empty fits better in many cases. Is it that people want to do something or be with someone in order to become something they aren't even sure they would really want to be or is it that they just follow some people without ever thinking about it? How much of the population simply surrenders? How many just go along with whatever? What is the critical number where concerned, principled, thinkers are so overwhelmed that they are first side-lined and then actively hunted? Questions indeed.

On the good side, should I be of the latter type, if the critical number has been exceeded, and if marginalization have already occurred and the hunt is now on... For me it will be a short hunt. A defended position will always fail, but it beats failing AND being out of breath in the open! See, I can be an optimist!

Good day.

Now that's just silly.

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A couple of bowls of smoke later and... no effect. I had thought the stuff might make me choke for air. Oh, well, I do know how to smoke a pipe so as to not choke. The problem is, I don't smoke that way. *grins* Without a filter, that smokes goes straight down the tubes into the pipes. Actually, I think smoking has cut the coughing back a decent little bit. Does any part of my anatomy work the way it is supposed to work? Ah well. I think I will have another bowl. Actually, since I sort of gave up on medicine and started smoking, I think I am almost ready to shower and take a trip into town. I almost hate to write this, and I don't write it with a straight face at all but... Who knew!

Later.

They have names for everything.

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I was curious about that dry clicking bubbling sound was, what might be the actual direct cause, and just looking to know more about whatever is taking place. These, as I understand things, are called the rales or simply rales (there is a difference, if sometimes having "the" or not is a matter of tradition). While I found little out other than it's name, what "wheezing" actually means, and that it all ties back into everything else that is wrong, at least I know a bit more. I have decided to call my doctor, for sure, today. Through the morning I would like to work up a bit of a note, sketch out what I want answered and the few specific questions I have.

I have not heard back from cardiology. I have not heard back from the insurance agency. I may have to follow up with those today, if I can get to it. I never did get to laundry or the dishes. I need some kind of bare minimum of some things to be able to function. I don't even know what those things are, I just know there is a limit and if I am under it I can't work. For phone calls, one of my known limits is the ability to speak and think clearly. While I can write easily and pretty much always (within variances), vocalization is not always available. It may be how my mind works, that vocalization takes more physical energy, or that living alone I lose practice speaking. I do know there are times where I shouldn't call. I actually called Dillon in spite of knowing better, but business with them had little to do with money and was supposed to be a simple call. It ended up being messy because the guy was a bit of jerk, my breathing made for a slower conversation, and I really probably was too tired to be pushing a conversation. I waited for a bit before calling the next on the list.

I did make some cereal this morning. One of the few clean pans was used. I made enough for seconds, thirds, and fourths, if reheating works. Tasty. It's been a while since I've really been on the meat, whole grain, and bean regimen. As my health failed, keeping up failed. I have been out of milk for a week or two, I am about to run out of soda, and I ran out of tobacco last night. Normally I would pull out my pipe if my ability was at a low ebb so that I couldn't get to town for more of my snuff, and that would see me through. As is I would no more risk a smoke than I would go for a long swim. Hmm, actually, the pipe might just do. Addictions are, indeed, addictions. If I hack too much on it, that might provide incentive to get snuff (and milk, and... other stuff). I suppose I am going to be grumpy or hacking until I can get out. My next appointment isn't until the 9th, since I am not eating I don't need food, only the need for cat food might see me in town before the 9th.

Well, on to... something.

While dying slowly and painfully...

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As I find my capacity to do just about anything more strenuous than feeding the cats or moving from chair to chair becoming a literal burden I can't bear. As the pains and various symptoms of my illness progress without being able to find any way to temper them. As my lungs slowly lose their ability to pull in enough air until I nearly choke out pushing beyond the first two. I realize there are some other things to contemplate.

First, because of the breathing, I can simply not avoid whistling while I work! If I fill a basket full of clothing and carry that to the washing machine, I am whistling like a steam engine with a full head on. While it is true, I carry no tune and have no means of adjusting it as I am simply trying to avoid passing out, I know I shouldn't be picky. As well, despite my own interest in being active, I know most people would love a little break from life. Most people are too busy. They might not like how they would get the break, but again, I am being picky. And more, I am learning more about the human anatomy and pathology than I had thought possible since the topic is of little interest to me. As something in my throat clicks every time I breathe, I have become my own little time piece. Click, click, click. Ah, time to get going! And finally, without much effort, I can emulate Darth Vader! Luke, *air intake sound* I am your father. *air intake sound* There are some advantages to being in my condition, if I can just step back enough to look at the frame while avoiding the little and bit pictures.

On another topic, I remember a woman writing about how another woman left her husband. There was something about the wife loving the husband dearly, but then he became dominant and masculine, so the wife seemingly had no Christian choice but to divorce him. I don't think I commented at the time as it was a he-said, she-said, and further one step removed from me beyond that. Now I have to say, I have never heard such foolishness in my life. Not only did the wife do the wrong thing, she did it for the wrong reason. I am sure God might forgive her, should she ever even think to consider that she was wrong and ask for it. But that doesn't mean she shouldn't have been scolded by "many". Christ didn't shed His blood for all, therefore I don't expect all to understand. But the many, yes, I do expect that. It's been bugging me, and since I might be dying, I decided to finally spit it out.

On to the rest of my day. *air intake sound* Ah, it's time to go whistle! Good day.

Out of curiosity...

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How many of you are able to use the majority of what you buy, and while it is still in optimal condition, with regards to groceries? No matter how much care I have given that concern, food often goes to waste. While I will admit, the greatest ability I have to lend to any task like grocery shopping combined with meal planning is rather weak, I have to wonder how many people even try to combine the two in the first place any more. Who needs to make sure baking soda is fresh, the lettuce and carrots in the crisper are used before they go limp (or green(er)), or even that meat is portioned for use or the freezer rightly with restaurants everywhere? Who needs to plan for meals when it probably is nearly cheaper and definitely easier to eat out even twice a day? I suppose the depression has caused some people into austerity measures, but enough of such to actually *gulp* cook?

Anyway, for those of you who do plan shopping and meal prep... How? Were you taught this growing up, did you learn it mostly as a young adult on your own, or did it fit as you found a mate and maybe then started to childrenify? I would love to get some of that down. I can cook but I had to leave the Jedi school of food prep for the dark side because of my disinterest crossed with my inability to keep dishes up and plan meals and shopping as a single step. I am not sure what a healthy home meal really is supposed to be, either, actually. A steak, and maybe a potato if they were somehow remembered, with sour cream and butter, and milk. Everything else is sort of, you know, stuff that mostly goes together. Oh sure, if I am buying spaghetti I will pick up marinara of some sort, and ground beef. If I buy cans of tuna, I will make sure I have mayonnaise and bread. But uhm, yeah. That honestly is about the depths of my level of planning.

By the way, I do think that, in time, if the real historians separate themselves from the majority academic socialists hack historians and write (then protect) real history, I do believe it will eventually be realized we are not facing a double dip. Any seeming increase in the economy, any recovery people currently see, will merely be realized as the U.S. government (among many governments) putting currency into the furnace to stay warm for a little bit. The governments are literally burning, destroying, real wealth in some insane hope of... something. At this point, I doubt if they know why. They are merely doing what everyone before them in recent history did, while trying to please certain major actors and spinning that it is good for us all. Well, that mixed with the wolves in various industries and the governments who are actively using the puppet as a host upon which to parasitically feast. When the blinders are lifted, my guess is that SS and Medicare are so insolvent, given the rest, that boomers can't be spared their just deserts.

And, I do find an amazing lack of concern among even the most hard hit. Until credit is maxed, no money is coming in, and they literally find themselves on the streets (after vandalizing the home they are losing), people continue to party like it was 1999. And they think they should be able to do so. Isn't that a right as well? Absolutely amazing. Then again, and a bit in fairness, most Americans have been living so easily for so long (yes, you, if you think about it, and me too) that there almost isn't a social structure upon which to base humble means living. I would have to go back to my grandparent's generation to find people who planned meals, lived on a real budget (that couldn't really be fudged), didn't worry about wants, and who actually grew wealth. Since then we have all been spenders, consumers. We were gifted wealth in many forms and spent it on wine and loose women and worthless jewels. It is gone. This will hurt.

Just a little morning cheer. Good day.

A few things done.

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Nothing fancy. I was too late for one of the calls I had hoped to place, I lost track of a thing or two I am sure. But I did call Dillon. It seems I am missing a piece. They are sending it. I called the insurance company. The woman I am supposed to contact was not available so I left a message. My mother called to do a quick check. Rain where she is, seems to be the way of it as well. I did something else as well. Things are a bit foggy and I run out of breath quickly, a frustrating thing to be sure.

It is taking me longer to get to things, to remember them, to facilitate them. I have to push to get even the little things kicked out. I am going to try and get to a load or two of laundry tonight, and a load of dishes. I will have to go slow. I had thought I would just push through the shortness of breath. That didn't work out very well. Much like thinking if you grab and electrified fence, that you might overcome, become immune, or somehow find a trick, it never quite works. I wish I had a stool high enough to sit while I do dishes. Just standing will get to me.

I almost called the V.A., the clinic. I had thought maybe they had some other inhaler, an idea about the dehydration, and something else. I ended up putting hanging up. I am pretty sure there is little else they can really do. I mean to call about cardiology, at the main hospital. I have serious doubts, to a surety, but since it is there and all roads seem to lead there, I might as well give it a shot. Actually, while I was writing about it, I tried to make an appointment with cardiology. I could only leave a message with them as well, but it is in the works.

This is as successful as I have been in some time. I will take it for what it was worth. I will try to expand on it through a bit more work. But I have to say, this is getting really old really fast. I don't know how really sick people do it? I guess they do it the same way I do, one breathe at a time. Good day.

Cat food and food.

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A bit of research and a little comparing leaves me thinking that while Science Diet has excellent wet cat food, what it offers in dry cat food is not better than what I have. As well, the wet cat food I have chosen is better than Science Diet. The vet indicated that Science Diet does not change their ingredients, while other manufactures do and are allowed to do so as long as they return to the original recipe within a (rather long) period of time. In other words, many manufacturers cut corners. I know, a lot of fuss, especially for someone who may not need to worry for long, but this offers me a challenge. The price difference is negligible, probably depending upon where I shop as much as anything. I think I will be sticking with my picks as long as it is mine to choose. Which means one more change of wet food. The girls are already on the new dry food. Hopefully, in time, Sassy will be... rectified.

I am also considering getting back into the storage of foods. Just a little bit. I have, again, eaten most of my short term stocks. What I have of long term storage still is not stored properly. I do not wish to bring too much in, but it would be good to have enough for myself for at least a few months. Should anyone end up coming to tend my final business, I am sure they would be pleased to only have to shop for perishables. I can't go getting all fancy on this, and might end up going more with #10 cans of freeze dried foods, an assortment of canned meats, more beans and rice, and a few curiosities as I like to call fruits, vegetables, and irregular items. Plus, if I continue to have difficulty getting to the store, I at least have something in the house. Oh, soups too I suppose. I just had a can of chicken noodle. Little as I liked it, a little food does the body good. Everything tastes extremely salty though, perhaps because I am dehydrated, perhaps because my organs aren't getting rid of the right stuff fast enough.

I have reconsidered calling my doctor. I don't want to be begging for help. Often, when dealing with the government, help is not what you will get or not what you thought it should be. I am simply going to have to suffer through and hope. Since I am up and mostly both mobile and functional, I am going to begin a search for someone to tend the lawn for a bit. I am also going to call Dillon, make another business call, and check to see if I have all the paperwork necessary for another business claim.

My stomach feels like I have been in a fist fight with a fighter who held his own for a bit and knew what he was doing. My fever comes and goes, my legs are still freezing, and I still feel ill. And? No, I have to try and push through. I need to get to what I can do and pray about everything else. On another note, Sassy has been just loverly since returning from the vet. She has wanted to be around me all the time. I guess meeting other people who do odd and weird things to her has shown her that papa isn't such a bad hairless ape after all. *grins*

Later!

A little more research.

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With diuretics no longer seeming to do a thing about the fluids in the lungs, I decided to research a bit more. It is difficult to concentrate but I need to stay on this as well as I am able to do so. I looked at liver failure, and while a few things fit, most do not. Most notably missing is jaundice though there were other problems. I then looked at kidney failure. I would say there is a 90% fit, but what doesn't fit is rather important. When kidneys fail, potassium levels increase to the point where the levels themselves can be lethal.

Every attempt at pegging a diagnosis, or even a group of them, comes short. If it were a minor issue, say feverishness (which I might miss in my condition), that would be one thing. But as with lacking jaundice and actually having low potassium levels, the indications are actually counterposed to a positive diagnosis. Everything is the problem but nothing is actually the problem. At least I understand why they haven't arrived at a definitive diagnosis yet. Something, something, high blood pressure, something, give or take.

I had to take the next logical step and look at end of life "symptoms". A close fit, but not quite there either. And all of those symptoms fit into the other near diagnosis's, in pieces and parts. I simply have no idea what exactly is happening, what is next, time scale. I have nothing to work with and I am receiving no feedback at this time.

I seem to do fine when I sleep, assuming I can get to sleep. And, after waking, for the first ten or fifteen minutes, I do fine. After that I deteriorate. Breathing problems and pain come back. Neither Anacin nor Tylenol, to the amounts I have tried so far seems to help (about 2k each per dose though I will be trying more next time). Further, occasional feverishness in spite of cool skin, mild nausea or flushing of some sort, clicking while I breath in, a more regular cough and wheezing when I lose my breath, an inability to find comfort in any type of sitting or reclining position, and just an absolute ill feeling have become part of the daily routine. I think I need to call and find out if my doctor will take a call today, or at least leave a message.

I know it seems odd, but I still think this can be beat. Most of the damage can very possibly be reversed. Currently my healing is weak, due to all that is going on. But when my healing is normal, and if it can be normalized, I think I would be fine. The one caveat is that if healing is based on reducing my blood pressure, the cause is probably lost. I couldn't pray with a good conscience about this if I hadn't done everything I could and didn't continue to try. I might have, at one time, been able to lie to myself in a bold faced manner. But those days are gone. And yet, I feel no compulsion to become a living nursing home bio-lab for a medical system I see as having failed me either. Prayer, by the way, does help. It does not ease the pain or discomfort, it doesn't help with breathing, it simply makes the journey through there a little smoother somehow. And, despite my blogging of late, it really isn't all about me. God knows, I am bored of me and I have other concerns on my mind, the really important things.

It's a rough morning. I will try to sleep again if I don't have much hope for that. Still, no reason for you not to have a good day. Actually, if you can have a good day, grab it. And if you like me even a little, enjoy some of it for me. Oh, and enjoy a treat for me. I'm hungry in some odd way. No, have a great day.

It just doesn't make sense.

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Not to me. I seem unable to void fluids, despite the diuretic. While I sleep, when I can sleep, there is no way I can void fluids without waking in a anthropomorphic lake. And yet I am waking both uncongested and dry, at least until I begin waking well. As soon as I hit 'awake enough to get my bearings if not be comfortable about it', my lungs begin to flood again, a bit at a time, until I am forced out of bed. I can fight it for various lengths of time, but staying in bed is pretty much futile. As soon as I wake up, the gig is up.

I took 2k mg of Tylenol before trying to sleep last night. I had been fighting the breathing all day, and losing. The various pains had become a bit more than troubling. The pain pills initially seemed to have zero affect. I attempted to sleep at about 15:00, quite exhausted. I rolled around for two hours or more, with little hope I would do more than rest for a bit before, as has happened for the last several days, I would be forced out of bed just to breathe. I can't say exactly when it happened but... I finally slept. Perhaps Tylenol finally worked, perhaps my body just became too tired to fight, perhaps something else happened. Now, waking at 22:00 or so left me, at best, with five hours of sleep. But it has been days since I got more than two hours actual sleep I think. The number has been dwindling from four to three to less and less. I guess five hours will do.

I did wake, and again begin choking on breathing as I became more awake. But after sitting up I find my lungs, again, relatively open. The other pains and aches have been relieved. I guess I didn't think things would get better any more. I am not sure which is worse, having my head stuck under water until I just succumb and drown or whether getting a break now and then as I slowly starve for oxygen and die. Well, okay, I know which is worse. But if it buys me a little time and the health to manage a few things before I die, and while I can do a few things, the latter works. At some point it is going to become quite tiresome, and more.

I don't know whether to laugh or lament what I just realized. I suppose it depends on a couple of factors though I think laughter is my current disposition, lamentation would be from prior understandings. At a time when suicide might actually be warranted (in the secular vein, of course, and mind you), I could and would no more use it to "ease my suffering" than I would bed a loose woman or beat Sam or Sassy because of my pain. A capacity not many have, when finally allowed by the world, is no longer useful. While the capacity remains a stronger belief in the sanctity of life overrides the will to use the capacity. I don't think it classifies as ironic, merely funny.

My lungs are not actually clear. It is merely that I can sit up without panting, an improvement. The toll exacted from feeding the cats just now reminds me that very little activity can cause me to pant again. This is going to be a slow and ugly death, and painful. On the bright cheery side, you get to read about it! If as many people out there truly hate me as I suspect, this process should be a joy. Forgive me for enjoying that though, I have prayed not to but can't always help myself. For those who enjoy the process of my flesh dying, I see the death of a soul as I look out. I'll keep my soul, you keep your life, and mirth. Liberals never learn. In spite of my wicked pleasure, I will pray for you... and for forgiveness of my own dark little joy. Mostly.

Brutal.

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Tylenol, at any dose, is no longer helping. Neither is aspirin or Anacin. I need sleep so badly but I can no longer become comfortable enough to sleep. I am having trouble breathing just sitting. I don't think this thing is fatal and there is a good chance it never will be. It won't get the chance. Exhaustion from not being able to sleep will mostly likely simply cause something else. A heart attack is more what I am hoping will happen. A stroke scares me. There are other failures which could come first though. Beside the side ache from trying to breathe, I now have a matching pain on the upper part of the lower torso, just below the ribs. These have become constant in the last few days or week. I don't know what that is. Kidneys, I think, are beginning to bark a bit, if those are in the lower outer back of the torso. I can't say for certain, but I would guess my breathing is becoming the type of breathing one would find coming from someone on a cross.

This is going to be slow and hard. I definitely deserve it. My worry is that it will all become a bit much and I will surrender myself by going to the hospital, the last place I want to be. I am hoping I can just hold fast until it eases or doesn't. I realize there is no help to be had, from any quarter. I also realize now that this is probably the best way. If it gets much worse, I will put something into play to limit the time I simply rot. I won't say I sense death, I really don't. It is merely a belief because of the situation and from what I have gathered. More research online is rather useless. At some point even online information just can't deal with so many variables, notorious as it is on fact often anyway.

So tired. I just want a bit of sleep. So sore. So weak. I'm going to try to find sleep again.

I don't know.

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I was up and ready easily to take Sassy for her appointment. I had thought her medical profile was in a specific place. Of course, it wasn't. I looked for a bit, but running shy on more time to search, I simply trapped the unhappy beast and away we went. She was quite nice, actually. She is not used to other people. She didn't fight, or bite, though she did fuss when they took her temperature the old fashioned way and more so when they gathered a bowel culture the old fashioned way. But considering everything, she was rather good.

It looks like she has a minor problem, and I was given some stuff to sprinkle on her food. It acts like yogurt, but of course is designed for cats. Two boosters and a rabies shot were also had. It was good to know that she is relatively healthy. Changing her food too quickly might be what is upsetting her stomach though too. I asked about cat foods. Science Diet is what was recommended. I will look over the labels and see about that. I forgot to set up an appointment for Sam, she is next. While she will probably be as easy or easier to deal with than Sassy, she will be much more difficult to get into the cage. She HATES the carry box.

As little as that work was, I found myself constantly out of breathe. I tried the inhaler before I left to zero affect. I am honestly not sure how I am going to mow the lawn, or even shop for groceries. My capacity to simply suck in air is compromised by merely getting out of my chair. Things are not looking good, not at all. I have given up on medical intervention. I have doubts they are going to even offer end of life services. They will most likely merely try to kick me around to other specialists and doctors in the hopes that none of them are held responsible for anything that is about to happen. I am in a really tight spot and the medicine doesn't seem to be doing a thing anymore. I just need a few more weeks to take care of some business and then I don't really care. At least if I can find a way to take care of that business.

A gray day. But today it doesn't really matter. I'm actually feeling, in the emotional way, pretty good. I'll go with that. Have a good day yourself.

I guess I never knew.

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I was absolutely amazed, confused, flabbergasted by the chart in this article. Now, when I used to be active technology wasn't how things were done. There was no such thing as sexting (and I wouldn't have done it). I also never cared for mirrors or photography, nude or otherwise. The rest, well, there was that. I think what got me the most was how many people knew the full names of past lovers. Sexually speaking, if politics is considered, and liberals are considered loose, liberals would have considered me a freak. I had never seen anything like a poll or how my behavior compared, politically speaking or otherwise. It isn't that I tried, it is that it just wasn't that difficult to find a woman and I had no real moral underpinnings. Add in lots of travel, constant moving, and I did what I did. Then again who knows how honest people are in surveys and add in that my mother and then I through rearing were trendsetting a bit. My guess is my way of life is more normal with the younger generations. Sure, I have changed. Even while dying I maintain celibacy to the best of my ability for moral and social reasons. But it doesn't change the past. Or my surprise... chagrin. I thought... I was normal.

I wonder what else is extremely abnormal? The dying thing, of course. Most don't kiss death more than once, let along hang out on the make-out couch a dozen times. And moving. I lived in IC the longest, as a single city (if you include the attached city as an area), if I lived in three different places there. I no more know the names of all the cities, towns, and farms I have lived than I know the names of past lovers or people I fought. I know about a third of those first and almost none of the names of people I fought, I would guess. So much has come and gone in my life. It is almost as if I have no past. Even in the Navy, according to my records, I was never at a place more than three or four months, some duty stations were very short. Even my family... I have somewhere between 27 and 37 or was it 41 foster, step, adopted, and half brothers and sisters (that I know of, I am not sure about my birth father's children though those sort of don't count since I didn't know them or ever live with them), along with 10 parent types of various sorts, all but two I lived with at some point. How I remember things and deal with things is probably, just for those reasons, different.

How strange that a simple chart would expose so much. It is shocking to me. I am not sure how I feel about it. Alone, perhaps? I will think about it.

Drowning.

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I had hoped after three doses of the diuretic that the fluid would begin draining from the lungs. I drink very little, as I said. In spite of constant thirst, drinking resembles eating sand more than being refreshed. Tea, water, soda, it all is simply difficult to consume. My lips continue to blister. As far as I know, my next medical appointment isn't until the end of next month, though cardiology may be setting something up soon. Drats, I had meant to do some shopping. I will be in town tomorrow, taking Sassy to the vet. Gatroade and milk are the main things. As for eating... The nice thing about a small appetite is that my grocery bill has shrunk to $150 a month, including milk and soda.

I keep waking with full lungs, breathing on the skids, and a sore chest. At least I am not yet becoming oxygen deprived. A few times where I have excessively run myself out of breath, I have seen the beginnings of that, seeing "stars" I know to be a sign of asphyxiation. I used to see those in fights too, if my opponent was half decent when I was a budding fighter or later if someone nearly got my glass jaw just right. I keep looking for things that might help, researching online a bit, talking to others.

I have decided to set up my weights and to start using them. I don't know if pushing that will help. I will have to start low, probably just with the bars and bells. And it may turn out that I simply can't do it without seeing stars. But it might just push things open, force my body to respond. I have a good idea what the doctors would say. But they err on the side of caution to unreasonable levels almost every time. I think of them as medically based nanny mothers. "Oh, don't do that, you could do something which could cause something which might hurt something!" Common 'mother's neurosis' is suffered by all of them, in spite of the truth of how most of them live. You have to find out for yourself.

Just more complaining. For the moment, it is what I have. Talking to live people, even in the medical field, about half of this and... they back off as if I have the plague or abruptly change the subject. People like shiny happy things, not the truth. Certainly not my truth. I understand. Still, I have to shake them up so that they can look at the whole thing and paint a picture I can understand. Besides, I am the one who should be in shock. I'm not, I'm just grumpy about it all.

I haven't heard from my priest, but then he is not officially back until sometime earlier this week. I am sure his message service is full. Actually, before calling him back, I may simply give him another week to find some sanity upon his return. That is a "job" I am not sure I would want to handle if I could in the first place. Then again, in a more secular way, having been raised by a minister and family, I know the life of a pastor. The troubles, foibles, follies, sadness, and joy that a large congregation can put on one man is immense. I like to call it the physics of life. Even in God, with the bible, and in earnest, the questions are usually more varied and unique than the answers. The answers, actually, are simple. Do or do not, quite often. Do in faith, don't do in haste, want, greed, or lust. But how they fit the questions, how to answer the questions so that the answer makes sense to the one listening, that is where the fine delicacies and intricacies of immortal wisdom become a set of physics and mathematical formulas that are stunning. Of course the bee can fly, but how do we show it? Anyway, a little more time on that.

Hopefully I can get to mowing today. As is, it is already raining again. Perhaps I could at least get out with the weed eater and hit around some of the areas so as to mark it all up for the mower. Perhaps too some raking and branch mitigation. My trees shed branches like some trees shed leaves or nuts. On the good side, branches are easier to police. Who knows what will be done. After Sassy's appointment, the month is pretty wide open. I have a chance, after weeks of constant appointments, of getting back to... solitude, quiet, rest. Perhaps that will give me time to find my new place with the new conditions to begin... starting wherever I can.

I don't get it.

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I did make it to my appointment, and actually an hour early. My ability to... figure things out right now is rather limited. I ended up going early before I ended up not going, I guess? I have no idea why I went so early. I may have been failing, unable to think straight, and believed being on the road would see me there. I just don't know. And, really, I don't care.

When I got there, I was told that they had tried to reach me to let me know the appointment was canceled. My phone was on, so I am not sure what happened. The lady, and I trust her, said she called twice and left one message. My phone shows, now, only one call. No, really, I do trust her. Phones, all phones I have had, will sometimes not patch through calls. Bad software, one of the towers too busy, who knows. In any case, since they couldn't contact me, they had another nurse fill in.

They did an EKG. I am not sure if they did one in SLC or not. The number of tests that have been done leaves me not sure what any particular thing is. You might be surprised how similar different tests appear to be. My blood pressure was 160/140 and my pulse was about 107 or something, with oxygen at 92% to 93%. I was speaking with the nurse, asking for information. She really didn't have much to offer. I said I needed more information for planning, as it has been suggested that I am dying and it could happen at any time. She almost guffawed. Then asked why I would think such a thing. I said, well, it could be the enlarged heart both ventricles mind you, the hardening of the heart a test had suggested (though didn't we already know that, ha!), the low blood flow through my heart another test suggested, my liver and kidneys showing signs of failure, the liter or two of fluid in each lung, the high blood pressure, or maybe just a sense of doom. Or, maybe, a smattering of all of those things. She actually did stop and think there for a second and never spoke of the notion again. Actually, oddly, she let me show myself out. Usually they bring me up. I always feel as if they feel the need to monitor me out, so I don't steal or die or... something. Other than it being odd I did not mind.

I stopped in town, on the way home, to deposit some checks. While there I decided to stop at my favorite restaurant. A big meal was had, more than usual. I ate half of it. I also ordered shrimp ceviche for take out. Two meals are in the refrigerator ready for later meals. Oh that is so good. And even with only half a meal in me, I am stuffed to bursting.

I don't think I could have mowed today. But the choice is not mine. It rained, heavily, right until I returned and everything is quite wet. The sun is peaking through, but I have a strong sense that rain will again fall and shortly. This is one of the grayest springs I can remember. I am not looking forward to a sudden dry hot summer though, either. A little bit of transition time makes the weather so much easier to tolerate. That is not for us to decide. Deal with it I must.

Good day.

Weird sleep.

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I am sleeping, but in shifts. I can sleep about 4 hours before waking will full lungs. I can then stay up about 8 hours before needing to sleep again. Perhaps the medicine will kick in, perhaps fluid full lungs is just the way it is now. By the way, taking that much crap while not really being able to eat is... a stretch. I can't tell what is doing what, only that the side effects are excessive and odd. I may cut some things to every other day, split up what I am taking at any one time, and hope for the best. I have to take the diuretic, probably the potassium, the heart medicine, and aspirin. The rest will be taken as I can.

Though not perfect, the sleep seems to be enough so that I can maintain reasonable conscious function while awake. I am not overly tired, too weak to be simply mobile, and I might be able to take care of some business on the side. The thing, again, is that my wake times will sometimes be at odds with availability of business contacts. It beats being all down or asleep most of the time.

Tuesday Sassy goes in to the vet. Her stools do not smell nearly as bad, but are still rather loose. After looking at cat foods with a new appreciation for what cats really need, I have found another cat food that I will be starting them on as soon as I use the last of the old cat food. I purchased the best dry cat food, as a 20% supplemental for the majority wet cat food. It seems having some dry cat food in the mix helps with their teeth and gums. I also found a much better protein providing wet cat food. Finding food with no grains in the top 5 slots (and definitely not as the first slot) and real whole meats (preferably few or no by products, meal, etc.) in the majority of those slots, was what I was looking for. Good luck finding dry food like that. And expect to pay a good bit more for both the best wet and dry cat foods. Then again, compare the price of veterinary visits and pet medicine, along with inconvenience for owner and discomfort and restrictions for pets and the money seems more than worthwhile.

Sam got sick, again, today. I think, after feasting outside on flora and fauna (minus the flora mostly), she decided to eat even more when she returned home. Simply put, she was too full. I hope that is all. The material she voided looked different, not gnarly like it usually used to look. Still, after Sassy is checked out, Sam goes in. I will set it up when I take Sassy in. Due to expense, I will not take Sam in until after the first. If nothing else, it will be good to know they have their shots. I would like to find out more about my choice of foods, consider parasite treatments, and... ask a few other questions. I need to write some things down before hand, and take notes during the visit.

An appointment today means little will be done. Perhaps in the afternoon, when I return, I could do some mowing. I am not holding my breath. The trip itself might shove my nose into the dirt, exhaustion wise. I am very weak currently. A heavy bm turns me to jello. Ah well, the mowing will just have to get done when it gets done.

Have a good day.

Update: Argh! After being in the house all night, and after not being fed for eight hours, I decided it was feeding time. Fifteen minutes after feeding time Sam is tossing her cookies again! I do get mad, holler, and grumble. But I can't be mad AT Sam, she really can't help it. I suspect I will have to feed her less. She is a picky eater and has never really liked her food all that much, almost no matter what she is offered, at least until I started her on this new food. She LOVES this mix. She enjoys the hard food as well as the wet. She may simply not have any way of eating the right amount. But... how do you feed half a pouch of wet food? It's messy. Ah well. I still love her, even when she is a brat!

A sense of things and about my Mom.

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If how I feel has anything to do with how I am doing I am in trouble. Admittedly, I started a bunch of things yesterday. Along with furosemide, prescription strength potassium, over the counter calcium, magnesium, and a multi-vitamin, and carvedilol were all added in. Flushing and a bit of nausea is what is happening actively. A general exhaustion, if merely on par with recent norms, is also to be found. Even if it were not very likely to rain soon, I doubt if I could have gotten to mowing. Something else seems wrong with me, but I simply can't put a name to it. It is something physical, something not good, as opposed to a feeling or set of emotions.

I have been reviewing my conversation with my mother. Her response was surprising. I wondered if she, having seen me in bad scrapes, believes I will come out ahead this time too. I wondered if that she is so busy there that anything else can't really be taken in and processed. Perhaps she really doesn't care, she honestly sometimes really dislikes me (more when I am correct than not, as some (many?) women seem wont to do). None of those notions seemed quite right. Gnawing on the consideration while it gnawed on me lead to another idea. Perhaps she simply can't handle the notion of me dying. While she has performed in-home end of life care for many people, perhaps her youngest child would be so far beyond what she can do that she can't ponder it without a gold leaf embossed letter from three board certified doctors and a dream sent from God.

I am almost sure, now, that I am dying. While I am more sure of a economic and possibly civil collapse, I nearly as sure of death. I think the only thing I am unsure of is timing. And more, I gamble with intervention. If I have some one here and have a stroke, I am screwed. You can live for decades... on a feeding tube. Would a failing be fatal or lead to death quickly? Just because they can't fix the underlying problem in such a way that I could lead any kind of life doesn't mean they wouldn't do so after a failing, leaving me less of a reduced life than what I would already be looking at. So much to consider. So few answers as to time.

At least I am over the thought that my mother might be ignoring this out of spite. And, yes, I knew when I stumbled on the last notion that it was the right one. Something happens when the right factors combine in a mind and the correct answer is found. Beyond logic, I felt it. We are, after all, in spite of our variances, quite well connected. My dying is killing her. Meh, she is a woman, she will take this in stride, survive it, and thrive. Like it or not.