Thursday, 3 July 2014

Summer Heat

At 5:00 AM this morning the brilliant Canadian summer sun split the horizon, bursting the soft, glowing orange that rims the edge of this rolling prairie into a blaze of blinding white, announcing its arrival by blasting into my window, starting the heating process of the sultry summer day that is sure to follow. I awoke to see the sun turning the soft, gentle light of my room into a heated incubation. I got up to do what I needed to do, then went back to sleep. I was tired, able to ignore the rising temperature and rising sun.

At 9:45 AM this morning, Rosa called to tell me she had a family problem today and would not be able to make it. Could she come tomorrow at noon instead? I said yes, ended the call and rolled over to try going back to sleep. The warmth of my room began to draw beads of sweat from my forehead. The air conditioner was running in the living room; I could hear it. Ray must have started it when he woke up, hours earlier. My bedroom door is closed for privacy, so that cool air was not reaching me.

I tried to go back to sleep. Unfortunately 9:45 is close enough to 10:00 AM to make that a difficult thing. On top of the morning demand for my awakening, Mom and Ray are visiting and I felt guilty about sleeping when they are awake and wondering about their day. I was tired; once again I tried to ignore the rising temperature and the insistence of my good host nature, this time to limited success. I finally began the long, slow process of getting from sleep to wakefulness, from naked to dressed, from listlessness to life.

I've been depressed the last couple of days, today still. Mom, Ray and Jim all tell me it is to be expected that I should have a bit of a slump after being on such an exciting trip for three weeks and then such a fun weekend after that. They tell me it makes sense that I would feel a bit let down after all that "up" time. I agree that most of us would feel these things, that I am not all that different... except for one thing.

I have a reason to be depressed. When I get into a "slump", I begin to think about what is happening to me, what will happen to me. I begin to wonder about what I have lost, what I will lose next. I think about losing my ability to drive, my ability to cook, my ability to feed myself. I think about the day when I can no longer breath unaided; that will most likely be my last day. I get sad, the sadness that infiltrates.

Having a slump after having so much fun is normal. What I have is more than just a slump; it's slump "2.0", slump accentuated, driven by ALS. Even a beautiful summer day will not ease it. I just have to wait it out.

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