Food, Toilet, Pills

I'm up, out of bed. This is no small accomplishment given the way I feel today. I've been struggling since last night with an upset stomach, along with it's outlier components of diarahhea and nausea. None of it is serious. None of the possibilities have come to pass except one. This morning, once seated on my commode chair, my bottom end started production before I could get myself over the toilet. Thank goodness my HCA, Kathy, was here. Thank goodness she dismissed it as a mere trifling event, nothing to give a second thought.

My HCA's are all really good that way. Not once, in all my care, have the criticized the outcomes of my illness. They have been almost constantly encouraging and supportive. I know they are paid to do that, but it still matters. Their encouragement is sometimes the only thing that makes me get up on any given morning.

The real problem is that any small illness, be it a random bacteria or a raging cold virus, has the ability not only to leave me seriously ill, but in many cases, dead. My own immune systems is so compromised, so constantly fighting against ALS, that it has little ability to combat most common illnesses. What happens is that the fight against a germ wears me out, as does the fight against ALS. So the smallest of things can lay me out for a day or two.

That's what happened today. I got up. I had my morning coffee and a sandwich. I started to fall asleep at the table, so, eventually, after fighting it for a while, I went to bed for a nap, thinking I would get up in a few hours. I took an Immodium to be safe. That was 7 hours ago. The two things that finally forced me out of bed were another trip to the toilet and the need to put food into the fridge. Oh, and pills too. Can't forget my own personal pharmacy. They are here in the kitchen, waiting to be sorted for the week. So, food, toilet, pills; those are the reasons for my writing today.