Another gem I discovered while geocaching. (More on that some other time.)
Nothing is ever really wrong with me, except when it is. What I mean is this. Over the years I have suffered the odd mysterious malady that seems to not go away for days or weeks. When I finally seek medical attention, the condition simply disappears. That is what happened with my strange eyeball twitching situation. Years ago I was diagnosed with IBS and everyone knows that a “syndrome” is just another word for “we don’t know what’s wrong with you.” I’ve had benign positional vertigo (translation: dizziness), a stress fracture in my left foot that never showed up on X-rays but required me to wear a boot for 4 weeks, and now a mysterious gastrointestinal affliction. Luckily, it’s letting up, and aside from the lingering fatigue that makes me need a nap after accomplishing even a small task (although I would argue that a 45-minute call with AT&T to dispute a shady charge is not small at all), I am feeling better. Just like that. Poof. Meanwhile, I also saw my lady-parts doctor, who has ordered me to get an ultrasound for something labeled “dysfunctional uterine bleeding.” Here we go again.
Just One Paragraph 4/30
An object at rest tends to stay at rest. I’ve been resting for days, unable to do much else. I have stayed in the house near the bathroom or in bed because I couldn’t eat enough food to keep my energy up. Today, though, I did see the doctor, who, as expected, shrugged and said it’s probably a bug and it will go away in a few days. In the meantime, I should take Immodium and eat. Especially if I am hungry. And so when I returned I ambled through the house looking at things. There are piles of things gathering dust and more things. I limply pick a thing off the top of a pile and consider it, then either toss it in the trash or move it to another pile. I shuffle downstairs and look at my children, sprawled out on the couches watching Spongebob. I have only enough energy to marvel at the length of their limbs, at the number of new freckles on their cheeks, and at their inertia. It’s catching, I suppose, when Mom, who is generally in motion, leads by example. At one point yesterday I was lying in bed watching “Old School” on TV and Stewart came in the room. “Wow,” he said. “You must really be feeling bad. You never just lay around like this.”
Just One Paragraph 3/30
We returned from our 3-week stay in Connecticut on Thursday night, but even now I’m still not acclimated to my “real life.” I’ve been sick since before the flight – a stomach bug, it seems. I’m unable to eat without pain and discomfort, so that makes me lethargic, lightheaded, and generally unpleasant to be around. I watched more TV yesterday than I have all year. A Suze Orman marathon, several episodes of Modern Family, that kind of thing. Mind/body fail. At the same time, even as I force myself to write, my normal setup at my desk is funky because my wireless keyboard started malfunctioning one morning a few weeks ago back east, presumably because of the high humidity in the air. I was writing outside on my parents’ deck, enjoying the quiet, green morning. The “b” key stopped working, and my computer’s battery died, so I went inside. Then the “e” key stopped working. A week later the entire “qwert” side of the keyboard was dead. My big clumsy hands make many mistakes on the laptop’s keyboard now, so writing is slower. Tools fail.