Sunday, 22 January 2017

Everything Else Can Wait

Today should be named after Disney's missing three dwarves; Deary, Bleary, and Weary. The sky outside is a dull, sullen damp grey. It's -5C outside, cold enough to snow, yet is looks like it has been raining. There's this near dry mist in the air, moisture condensing out enough to make everything look damp, yet not enough to snow, at least not so far. There's still time left in the day.

I'm feeling that way myself. I know I should be happy with yesterday, with the wine we bottled, with the dinner we shared. I know I should feel good about the people around me, those who are constantly there to help me. I am happy about the wine. I am happy about the people. I'm just not happy about my life these days, the way it feels to live with ALS, the effort it takes to do something so mundane as get out of bed or go to the toilet.

The ache of the last few days continues with me today. I've been hurting on my left side for about a week. It's not enough to take pain killers; it's not really pain per se. It's a soreness of muscle that is just below the threshold of pain, a kind of low grade hurt that just won't go away. It makes me want to stay in bed, to not move, to lay there doing nothing. When I don't move, nothing hurts. When I move, so does the pain. So I am never sure where it's going to be next, and it is never enough for me to do anything about. It's torture, only much milder.

It seems like I am complaining a lot today. I am. I have a few things to complain about, notwithstanding the great many things I have to be grateful for. I reserve the right to complain now and then, or even regularly. I think I deserve it. Of course part of the complaining I do is my own damned fault.

Take my kitchen, for example. When the gang left last night, all the dishes were done but for a few. The dishwasher was loaded and running. Excess dishes were hand washed and put into the dish rack. It is so nice, so helpful of them to do all this. Yet now, when I look at it, even though Home Care will be tomorrow to take care of everything else, I feel the need, the urge, to empty the dish rack, to empty the dishwasher, to wash the last few dishes, to wipe down the counters, to clean out the sink, to wash the last of the wine bottles. I don't have to do any of this, yet I feel it almost as a weight upon my shoulders.

I think today though, I will do as so many would suggest. I will take it easy. I will watch for the snow. I will eat, at least something. There is no need for me to push myself so hard. There is no need for me to feel I have to do everything. I'll do something for sure; I want to wash the mattress cover from my bed, and remake the badly made bed from Friday, if I can. That's a lofty goal for me today, to get this one thing done. That's all, just this one thing. Everything else can wait.

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