[Big changes in the upper torso, but this one is to document a change in my face I find hard to explain.]
It is like a muscle slid to the side (in very painful fashion while yawning, then adjusting my jaw) and suddenly my cheek bones are more pronounced, the flesh beneath them allowed to drop into place, creating depression between my cheek bones and my mouth.
The sinus is open on that side now as well.
* * * * *
So much muscle is moving up my upper torso.
Unfortunately, I can't list all the details as I'd like. It's safe to say I am developing a set of back muscles. In turn, they are allowing my shoulders to lift higher, letting some of those portions I believe have been trapped or kinked to release.
It's been too overwhelming to really consider the extent of this progress. It's just too much.
I am optimistic on one front, most of all. The muscle building at the back of the base of my neck is allowing significant extension to the back of the neck. I can keep my head in a more proper posture, rather than cricked.
Had hoped to write more. Hopefully I can map out some of what is going on better later.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Saturday, July 20, 2013
An After-Life Possibility
[As promised, here comes my latest idea, an interesting possibility, not entirely fictional given recent quantum physics discoveries concerning cause and effect. A note first, however, on Maya, my 14 year old lab/boxer, she had a grand mal seizure last night. Urine and anal gland secretion all over the floor, she had collapsed and begun the leg spasms while I lay across her to keep her stable. When she came to, she panicked, I believe more because she urinated in the house than because of the experience. My daughter took it well, as did I. I've known her end was soon coming for some time. I think the reality hit my wife hard, though. She was in that - "Sure she's dying, but it will be 2-3 more years" type of denial. I guess it still may, but it would not be a good bet. I doubt she'll make winter, which will leave me, trapped in a house with a small dog I don't really get along with. Joy.]
* * * * *
Okay, this will be quick, or not. I just want to get the idea out there.
First, the assumptions.
(1) A soul exists which contains some type of will.
Note this really assumes a few things, but we don't need to dive very deeply into them. I do believe in a soul, at least of sorts. I think some energy is zooming around inside us, oscillating, more likely.
I do think it just as possible, however, that such a soul lacks a will. This is to say, after death, this energy would be more an an echo of the self than a being. It would continue to oscillate as it did within the body, but now free of that mortal prison. As such, it would not really think or make choices. Of course, an argument can be made that we do not really think or make choices either, so I guess I'll let that go for now.
All that matters for this theory is that a soul of sorts continues. It was you. It has your memories. Let's consider it a butterfly that remembers life as a caterpillar.
(2) Time is not at all what we perceive it to be.
Here, I do not wish to go back into the cause and effect quantum physics ramifications. Rather, just admit we do not understand time.
The reality we experience is bound by our linear perception, one moment after the other.
Could it be this experience, the linear perception of time, is a result of our physical form?
* * * * *
So, the theory - The soul is not bound by time.
Think of it as a Cat's Cradle situation. The soul, once free of the body, is no longer stuck in time. It can revisit, and possibly even re-experience, the lifetime just experienced from a new perspective, any portion or specific moment it wishes.
It may or may not be bound to it's lifetime, but let's entertain that it is not, meaning you may visit the lives of your ancestors or even the lives of your descendants. If so, then your ancestors and descendants may also currently be visiting you.
Kinda cool.
* * * * *
Sure, it is simply an idea.
However, when I thought of it, I got the chills, well, a type of them I get once on a while, a euphoric tingling sensation throughout my body. It made me burst out laughing mid-sentence.
I had been discussing Maya's imminent death with my wife and how we may approach the topic with our daughter. I don't believe in telling my daughter there is one right religion. I take the "lots of people think different things" approach, and note that they are all possible. So, while running some of the "possibilities" by my wife, the about idea hit me, with the chills, and then the laughter.
* * * * *
Why did I laugh?
Well, my mind works pretty quick sometimes, and I also saw the possibility that that euphoric chill was a sensation one may perceive as your own soul revisits a moment within your body, when it tries to experience the moment once again.
For example, I've had something much like that feeling when performing in my youth, on stage, trumpet in hand, as I nail a solo standing separate from the rest of the jazz band. Or when I jumped off a cliff into Cleo's Bath for the first time. Or when I had my first hallucinogen influenced giggle fits. All very pleasant moments I would like to revisit if I could.
Perhaps I still get to.
But I took that thought a bit further during that split second realization. Perhaps my future soul was revisiting my current self at the precise moment I first had the idea, standing in the kitchen talking with my wife, as a means of telling myself the idea was correct!
* * * * *
Sure, more likely than not, it was a product of the discussion, some type of adrenaline release, similar to what happens when you watch your favorite part of a movie (like when Andy Duphrain is not in his cell, or when Babe shuts up the crowd).
Then again, maybe that's just your soul revisiting those favorite movie moments.
A nice thought, no? It made me laugh.
* * * * *
Okay, this will be quick, or not. I just want to get the idea out there.
First, the assumptions.
(1) A soul exists which contains some type of will.
Note this really assumes a few things, but we don't need to dive very deeply into them. I do believe in a soul, at least of sorts. I think some energy is zooming around inside us, oscillating, more likely.
I do think it just as possible, however, that such a soul lacks a will. This is to say, after death, this energy would be more an an echo of the self than a being. It would continue to oscillate as it did within the body, but now free of that mortal prison. As such, it would not really think or make choices. Of course, an argument can be made that we do not really think or make choices either, so I guess I'll let that go for now.
All that matters for this theory is that a soul of sorts continues. It was you. It has your memories. Let's consider it a butterfly that remembers life as a caterpillar.
(2) Time is not at all what we perceive it to be.
Here, I do not wish to go back into the cause and effect quantum physics ramifications. Rather, just admit we do not understand time.
The reality we experience is bound by our linear perception, one moment after the other.
Could it be this experience, the linear perception of time, is a result of our physical form?
* * * * *
So, the theory - The soul is not bound by time.
Think of it as a Cat's Cradle situation. The soul, once free of the body, is no longer stuck in time. It can revisit, and possibly even re-experience, the lifetime just experienced from a new perspective, any portion or specific moment it wishes.
It may or may not be bound to it's lifetime, but let's entertain that it is not, meaning you may visit the lives of your ancestors or even the lives of your descendants. If so, then your ancestors and descendants may also currently be visiting you.
Kinda cool.
* * * * *
Sure, it is simply an idea.
However, when I thought of it, I got the chills, well, a type of them I get once on a while, a euphoric tingling sensation throughout my body. It made me burst out laughing mid-sentence.
I had been discussing Maya's imminent death with my wife and how we may approach the topic with our daughter. I don't believe in telling my daughter there is one right religion. I take the "lots of people think different things" approach, and note that they are all possible. So, while running some of the "possibilities" by my wife, the about idea hit me, with the chills, and then the laughter.
* * * * *
Why did I laugh?
Well, my mind works pretty quick sometimes, and I also saw the possibility that that euphoric chill was a sensation one may perceive as your own soul revisits a moment within your body, when it tries to experience the moment once again.
For example, I've had something much like that feeling when performing in my youth, on stage, trumpet in hand, as I nail a solo standing separate from the rest of the jazz band. Or when I jumped off a cliff into Cleo's Bath for the first time. Or when I had my first hallucinogen influenced giggle fits. All very pleasant moments I would like to revisit if I could.
Perhaps I still get to.
But I took that thought a bit further during that split second realization. Perhaps my future soul was revisiting my current self at the precise moment I first had the idea, standing in the kitchen talking with my wife, as a means of telling myself the idea was correct!
* * * * *
Sure, more likely than not, it was a product of the discussion, some type of adrenaline release, similar to what happens when you watch your favorite part of a movie (like when Andy Duphrain is not in his cell, or when Babe shuts up the crowd).
Then again, maybe that's just your soul revisiting those favorite movie moments.
A nice thought, no? It made me laugh.
Friday, July 19, 2013
Struggles, Joy, and Fear
The roller coaster keeps souring high and diving low.
Same as it has been, my cycle continues. It gets really hard before a breakthrough, followed by a few good days, or a good day, or a good couple of hours anyways, then back to the struggle.
Each time, I have reason to think things are getting better, for the most part.
The summer has not been what I had hoped.
I was supposed to run and swim, and maybe lose some weight.
Instead, the setbacks seemed to stack up. Then, I'd have time with my daughter where I'd choose her over rehab (but it is not like other muscle systems didn't get work trying to keep up with her). Then, the puppy.
I'll go on record that it was either the wrong time for a puppy or the wrong puppy, one of the two, maybe both.
I was not doing nearly as well as I thought, nor was ready for the demands of puppy initiations. On top of it, I don't click with the dog. I can enjoy playing with her, but I think the mindset of the small dog is just non-compatible with me. I like a bigger dog.
Perhaps when she gets older, things will work better. For now, though, she's lucky she's cute.
The ear infections were relentless earlier this summer. I still believe the adjustments were the root cause. Swelling, so much swelling, the pain was overbearing at times.
Now, a new worry, I have a small lump under the armpit.
It HAS to be from all the hyperextensions and subluxations, right?
It is only a discomfort, though very sore initially. And only three days, yet I have not gone to the doctor. My personal physician in on vacation and I am not up for explaining everything to someone new. Dumb, I know. Dumb.
It can be so many things, so many that are not bad. Still, I fear.
I have to believe it is from last Tuesday. I spent six hours out with my daughter at the State Fair. It was a very good day.
She rode ride after ride. We did the Farris Wheel, the biggest one. I got to soak up so many smiles and squeals of happiness out of her.
Sure, I was a wreck afterwards, spending most of the last two days in bed, much of it worried over the suddenly swollen gland under my armpit.
But damn, it was a good day. I've had so few in so long. No way would I give it back. I have far too few of them with my daughter. Her mother does most, nearly all, outings with her.
Maybe it's not that dumb, giving it some more time before a doctor visit. The swelling has gone down, after all.
Still, this tale will either continue as normal, random updates that don't really do much more than get me typing, with the occasional rant or ramble into things I think about (I have a neat one I came up with the other night which I'll probably write about soon regarding the soul after death). OR, this could turn into something I had hoped it would not, a living obituary.
I long feared I would get to a position near normalcy, only to then end up fighting the ills people normally get to fight. If it were not for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all, the saying goes.
But we shall see . . .
Maybe it's just another trough. Maybe I'm on the verge of another breakthrough. Maybe, just like the lymph node swelling near my ear, this one is because of the adjustments, as I theorize. I sure hope so.
Things have been hard. There is still a good 2-3 months of warm weather left. Maybe I'll get my chance to jog and swim with regularity yet. And lose some of this weight!
Same as it has been, my cycle continues. It gets really hard before a breakthrough, followed by a few good days, or a good day, or a good couple of hours anyways, then back to the struggle.
Each time, I have reason to think things are getting better, for the most part.
* * * * *
The summer has not been what I had hoped.
I was supposed to run and swim, and maybe lose some weight.
Instead, the setbacks seemed to stack up. Then, I'd have time with my daughter where I'd choose her over rehab (but it is not like other muscle systems didn't get work trying to keep up with her). Then, the puppy.
I'll go on record that it was either the wrong time for a puppy or the wrong puppy, one of the two, maybe both.
I was not doing nearly as well as I thought, nor was ready for the demands of puppy initiations. On top of it, I don't click with the dog. I can enjoy playing with her, but I think the mindset of the small dog is just non-compatible with me. I like a bigger dog.
Perhaps when she gets older, things will work better. For now, though, she's lucky she's cute.
* * * * *
The ear infections were relentless earlier this summer. I still believe the adjustments were the root cause. Swelling, so much swelling, the pain was overbearing at times.
Now, a new worry, I have a small lump under the armpit.
It HAS to be from all the hyperextensions and subluxations, right?
It is only a discomfort, though very sore initially. And only three days, yet I have not gone to the doctor. My personal physician in on vacation and I am not up for explaining everything to someone new. Dumb, I know. Dumb.
It can be so many things, so many that are not bad. Still, I fear.
* * * * *
I have to believe it is from last Tuesday. I spent six hours out with my daughter at the State Fair. It was a very good day.
She rode ride after ride. We did the Farris Wheel, the biggest one. I got to soak up so many smiles and squeals of happiness out of her.
Sure, I was a wreck afterwards, spending most of the last two days in bed, much of it worried over the suddenly swollen gland under my armpit.
But damn, it was a good day. I've had so few in so long. No way would I give it back. I have far too few of them with my daughter. Her mother does most, nearly all, outings with her.
Maybe it's not that dumb, giving it some more time before a doctor visit. The swelling has gone down, after all.
* * * * *
Still, this tale will either continue as normal, random updates that don't really do much more than get me typing, with the occasional rant or ramble into things I think about (I have a neat one I came up with the other night which I'll probably write about soon regarding the soul after death). OR, this could turn into something I had hoped it would not, a living obituary.
I long feared I would get to a position near normalcy, only to then end up fighting the ills people normally get to fight. If it were not for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all, the saying goes.
But we shall see . . .
Maybe it's just another trough. Maybe I'm on the verge of another breakthrough. Maybe, just like the lymph node swelling near my ear, this one is because of the adjustments, as I theorize. I sure hope so.
Things have been hard. There is still a good 2-3 months of warm weather left. Maybe I'll get my chance to jog and swim with regularity yet. And lose some of this weight!
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Once more, Again and Again and Again; or Return of the Localized Night Sweats
[I'm exhausted. What follows is just some rambling meanderings as to what has lead me to this point, sitting in front of the computer screen, typing while doped. I went from crazy sore to too numb to sleep. So I type.]
The current problem with the puppy, other than it being a small dog, a yippee little shit, a teething terror with the jaws of a piranha and a taste for my flesh, and has a puppy brain, is that it's too damn cute to not fall for.
Even Maya, the terror of puppies, loves this little brown furry land piranha. Of course, Maya is deaf, so the yippee portion doesn't bug her much.
No, I like the dog. I may even get used to the small dog concept.
The real problem is that this is harder than I thought it would be.
When I do my little jog/swim/jog, the ONE FUCKING THING I have been able to push myself with, the one way I have been able to really experience some progress, actual tangible progress, not simply subjective, I really do give it everything I have. I hit the "I wanna quit and walk home" moment within a block of leaving the house, and no matter how well things go, I fight through so many pains during the outing that I am mentally fried when I finally get home.
I'm spent. The tank is empty physically, the pain is everywhere, and the mind is like a scratched record, skipping, sliding and looping.
Enter Willa.
I mean, the puppy has been in a pen while I was out for 2.5-3 hours.
I go straight to her and pick her up to take outside so she can relieve herself (though a few times the excited pup went as I bent to pick her up). Then, she becomes puppy spaas. I do what I can to entertain her.
I don't get to recover from my rehab.
The next thing I know, the wife and kid are home, and I am desperately tired.
But now it's time to be Dad. So, I do what more I can, though poorly at this point.
All the while, the body keeps changing. It's high up the back now. The kink/knot/fold is noticeably mixed with whatever it is that so often prevents me from swallowing. It hurts my chest, and my right arm feels almost entirely unhinged, held on by some perversion of a tendon, still twisted beyond belief.
But I know some of the changes have been real, because the night sweats have returned. They remain limited to the exact spots where I feel myself unfold. The pillow of sheet beneath the spot is drenched when I awake, but nowhere else.
It must be like R.E.M for the negotiated muscle groups.
I'd sleep in, but the new alarm clock goes off.
My daughter wakes up to the puppy biting her nose. She wakes and plays and takes both dogs outside to do their business. She then wakes her mother.
I wake up shortly afterwards, when the puppy is finally biting too much, too hard, and creates the "No, no, no, No, No, NO, NO, NO, NO!" alarm that my daughter becomes.
Good thing she's cute, too.
The current problem with the puppy, other than it being a small dog, a yippee little shit, a teething terror with the jaws of a piranha and a taste for my flesh, and has a puppy brain, is that it's too damn cute to not fall for.
Even Maya, the terror of puppies, loves this little brown furry land piranha. Of course, Maya is deaf, so the yippee portion doesn't bug her much.
No, I like the dog. I may even get used to the small dog concept.
* * * * *
The real problem is that this is harder than I thought it would be.
When I do my little jog/swim/jog, the ONE FUCKING THING I have been able to push myself with, the one way I have been able to really experience some progress, actual tangible progress, not simply subjective, I really do give it everything I have. I hit the "I wanna quit and walk home" moment within a block of leaving the house, and no matter how well things go, I fight through so many pains during the outing that I am mentally fried when I finally get home.
I'm spent. The tank is empty physically, the pain is everywhere, and the mind is like a scratched record, skipping, sliding and looping.
Enter Willa.
* * * * *
I mean, the puppy has been in a pen while I was out for 2.5-3 hours.
I go straight to her and pick her up to take outside so she can relieve herself (though a few times the excited pup went as I bent to pick her up). Then, she becomes puppy spaas. I do what I can to entertain her.
I don't get to recover from my rehab.
The next thing I know, the wife and kid are home, and I am desperately tired.
But now it's time to be Dad. So, I do what more I can, though poorly at this point.
* * * * *
All the while, the body keeps changing. It's high up the back now. The kink/knot/fold is noticeably mixed with whatever it is that so often prevents me from swallowing. It hurts my chest, and my right arm feels almost entirely unhinged, held on by some perversion of a tendon, still twisted beyond belief.
But I know some of the changes have been real, because the night sweats have returned. They remain limited to the exact spots where I feel myself unfold. The pillow of sheet beneath the spot is drenched when I awake, but nowhere else.
It must be like R.E.M for the negotiated muscle groups.
* * * * *
I'd sleep in, but the new alarm clock goes off.
My daughter wakes up to the puppy biting her nose. She wakes and plays and takes both dogs outside to do their business. She then wakes her mother.
I wake up shortly afterwards, when the puppy is finally biting too much, too hard, and creates the "No, no, no, No, No, NO, NO, NO, NO!" alarm that my daughter becomes.
Good thing she's cute, too.
Sunday, June 2, 2013
A Willa Of A Week
Things got bad. Major swelling in the neck, jaw, and right ear have been quite overwhelming. Eventually, I was given strong antibiotics.
I don't think the pain is a simple issue of an ear infection. It has to be related to tensions, portions as yet unwound but under high torque and pressure as a result of previous adjustments with physical posture still not altered enough to compensate.
Anyways . . . I endured, and still endure. I have yet been able to not require Narco for the pain. I have yet to sleep better than one 3.5 hour session in the past 5 days (I think I've managed 10 hours).
So . . .
It was not exactly the perfect time for a new puppy.
We have settled on a name (for now, anyways), complete with Titles:
Lizze and the wife provided the titles as Lizzie crowned Willa with a rubber doughnut squeeky toy, creating simultaneous "Oh, Cutie P'tutie" and "Queen of Doughnuts" declarations.
Had a pic (or good lord, video) of that moment been possible, the content of this blog entry would have needed health warnings for those suseptible to death or injury by excessive cuteness.
She is a chocolate miniature schnauzer, and I feel completely out of my league (like a zit faced nerd high school student escorting a supermodel to the Prom).
She is unbelieveably cute.
Now, my last two dogs were both cute. Matilda had been so "ugly cute" as to take second place in a Contra Costa County Ugly Dog Contest.
But both of them were mutts. This dog is just sickeningly near perfect. It's a good thing AKC does not allow chocolates (I believe they call them livers) to compete, or there is no way this one remained available for us at 11 weeks old.
Unfortunate to be in a trough of pain at present, but the boost from Willa has been substantial.
I have been shocked by how our 14 year old, Maya, the lab/boxer, archetype of a dominant female, has handled things. She has been incredible.
There have been accidents, and the puppy is too tiny for Maya, creaky and heavy limbs, to try to play with, but she has been both incredibly tolerant, and seemingly more happy than she has been in years (this is the real surprise).
Recently over pneumonia, limbs hurting possibly much more than my own, she has been pretty much a food/treat oriented dog with moments of "yeah, it's nice of you to scratch me" sprinkled in. Since Willa arrived, possibly mirroring the smiles and laughs by the rest of the family, Maya's tail tends to be higher and wagging more joyfully than it has in years, probably 5 years or more, since Matilda went blind.
It's also all over her face, at least when pointed at us, not Willa. She is still sending messages toward the pup, but the lip has only been barely lifted once, and Willa has done things that would have gotten other dogs on death's door just a year ago (as I prevented when my Mother's new dog growled at Maya upon entering OUR house for the first time - she wanted blood for that insult).
It's day 3 now, and Willa has been bouncing on Maya's head. Unthinkable.
It does get a bit depressing, however, knowing Maya just won't be able to play with Willa much, if ever. I just don't know what she could do without accidentally crushing the pup. On the few occasions she gets spry with us, she does not really possess body control anymore.
So, just as Summer is arriving, I also get a new puppy in my life. Even the truly horrific physical hurdles of late, again keeping me from the pool and exercise, only bring moments of depression.
I'm miserable. Make no mistake.
Yet, I'd be in despair otherwise. Even moments of agony can't stop visions of uber-cuteness from bringing a smile or two.
I don't think the pain is a simple issue of an ear infection. It has to be related to tensions, portions as yet unwound but under high torque and pressure as a result of previous adjustments with physical posture still not altered enough to compensate.
Anyways . . . I endured, and still endure. I have yet been able to not require Narco for the pain. I have yet to sleep better than one 3.5 hour session in the past 5 days (I think I've managed 10 hours).
So . . .
* * * * *
It was not exactly the perfect time for a new puppy.
* * * * *
We have settled on a name (for now, anyways), complete with Titles:
Willa, Cutie P'tutie, Queen of Doughnuts
Lizze and the wife provided the titles as Lizzie crowned Willa with a rubber doughnut squeeky toy, creating simultaneous "Oh, Cutie P'tutie" and "Queen of Doughnuts" declarations.
Had a pic (or good lord, video) of that moment been possible, the content of this blog entry would have needed health warnings for those suseptible to death or injury by excessive cuteness.
* * * * *
She is a chocolate miniature schnauzer, and I feel completely out of my league (like a zit faced nerd high school student escorting a supermodel to the Prom).
She is unbelieveably cute.
Now, my last two dogs were both cute. Matilda had been so "ugly cute" as to take second place in a Contra Costa County Ugly Dog Contest.
But both of them were mutts. This dog is just sickeningly near perfect. It's a good thing AKC does not allow chocolates (I believe they call them livers) to compete, or there is no way this one remained available for us at 11 weeks old.
* * * * *
Unfortunate to be in a trough of pain at present, but the boost from Willa has been substantial.
I have been shocked by how our 14 year old, Maya, the lab/boxer, archetype of a dominant female, has handled things. She has been incredible.
There have been accidents, and the puppy is too tiny for Maya, creaky and heavy limbs, to try to play with, but she has been both incredibly tolerant, and seemingly more happy than she has been in years (this is the real surprise).
Recently over pneumonia, limbs hurting possibly much more than my own, she has been pretty much a food/treat oriented dog with moments of "yeah, it's nice of you to scratch me" sprinkled in. Since Willa arrived, possibly mirroring the smiles and laughs by the rest of the family, Maya's tail tends to be higher and wagging more joyfully than it has in years, probably 5 years or more, since Matilda went blind.
It's also all over her face, at least when pointed at us, not Willa. She is still sending messages toward the pup, but the lip has only been barely lifted once, and Willa has done things that would have gotten other dogs on death's door just a year ago (as I prevented when my Mother's new dog growled at Maya upon entering OUR house for the first time - she wanted blood for that insult).
It's day 3 now, and Willa has been bouncing on Maya's head. Unthinkable.
It does get a bit depressing, however, knowing Maya just won't be able to play with Willa much, if ever. I just don't know what she could do without accidentally crushing the pup. On the few occasions she gets spry with us, she does not really possess body control anymore.
* * * * *
So, just as Summer is arriving, I also get a new puppy in my life. Even the truly horrific physical hurdles of late, again keeping me from the pool and exercise, only bring moments of depression.
I'm miserable. Make no mistake.
Yet, I'd be in despair otherwise. Even moments of agony can't stop visions of uber-cuteness from bringing a smile or two.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Back at Wit's End
The change was abrupt.
I was treading water, then
At the bottom, drowned.
I thought Summer was starting. I thought I was gaining momentum. I thought I was possibly getting better.
I still may be, but it doesn't feel that way at the moment.
Just days ago, I was on the verge of getting a puppy. It didn't happen.
I have been telling myself that the Moore, OK tornado is what sent me into depression, but it was before that tragedy.
It was the puppy.
I admitted to myself just how alone and empty I have been, and am.
It's a harsh reality I knew, but had not accepted.
So, I had decided, even though it will be difficult physically, that I need the puppy. The physical cost is necessary. My emotional state is desperate. I'll take more pain for a bit of love.
Then, it didn't happen. Wrong puppy.
And I'm left feeling very empty.
I'll keep looking, but I won't just jump at the first available dog.
There has to be a bit of magic. There was with Matilda.
I won't get another without some kind of feeling that it's the dog for me.
I could use something good to happen along the way though, cause I'm back at Wit's End, that cul de sac off Insane Way.
I was treading water, then
At the bottom, drowned.
* * * * *
I thought Summer was starting. I thought I was gaining momentum. I thought I was possibly getting better.
I still may be, but it doesn't feel that way at the moment.
Just days ago, I was on the verge of getting a puppy. It didn't happen.
* * * * *
I have been telling myself that the Moore, OK tornado is what sent me into depression, but it was before that tragedy.
It was the puppy.
I admitted to myself just how alone and empty I have been, and am.
It's a harsh reality I knew, but had not accepted.
So, I had decided, even though it will be difficult physically, that I need the puppy. The physical cost is necessary. My emotional state is desperate. I'll take more pain for a bit of love.
Then, it didn't happen. Wrong puppy.
And I'm left feeling very empty.
* * * * *
I'll keep looking, but I won't just jump at the first available dog.
There has to be a bit of magic. There was with Matilda.
I won't get another without some kind of feeling that it's the dog for me.
I could use something good to happen along the way though, cause I'm back at Wit's End, that cul de sac off Insane Way.
Friday, May 10, 2013
One Odd Action
I did the jog, swim, jog thing on Thursday, the weather having returned to warmth.
It was interesting, to say the least. My upper arms and shoulders are really finding a new position, and during the jog home, I found myself much more upright than usual, without the effort it would normally take to concentrate on remaining so.
Last night, however, I had a terrible time trying to eat. My throat just wouldn't let me swallow.
It is not fun to spend a whole day alone. Then, when the wife and kid finally return, and I spend 40 minutes choking, coughing, and spitting in the bathroom because I tried to eat dinner, the day goes from unfun to shit.
Anyways, I hit the spa after my daughter went to bed. There, while trying to trace some of the tensions, I ended up (as best as I can express) swallowing my throat with my neck.
It's the best description I can come up with.
Picture a snake with a mouse half in it's mouth. It's swallowing motion to send the mouse a bit further in it's mouth is what I am getting at.
It was like the muscles in my neck were able to swallow my throat a bit further down towards my chest.
It felt pretty odd. I was quite overwhelmed for a while.
The kicker was that I was able to swallow food afterwards, with only slight discomfort, compared to the complete inability a few hours before.
Moreover, it seems to have freed up some more of my right shoulder. The jog, swim, jog was much more productive today, and the seeming change of posture during the jog, being more upright, was even more pronounced with very little effort.
And the dizziness stints were very minor today.
Such a roller coaster.
Weeeeeeeeeee!
It was interesting, to say the least. My upper arms and shoulders are really finding a new position, and during the jog home, I found myself much more upright than usual, without the effort it would normally take to concentrate on remaining so.
Last night, however, I had a terrible time trying to eat. My throat just wouldn't let me swallow.
It is not fun to spend a whole day alone. Then, when the wife and kid finally return, and I spend 40 minutes choking, coughing, and spitting in the bathroom because I tried to eat dinner, the day goes from unfun to shit.
Anyways, I hit the spa after my daughter went to bed. There, while trying to trace some of the tensions, I ended up (as best as I can express) swallowing my throat with my neck.
It's the best description I can come up with.
Picture a snake with a mouse half in it's mouth. It's swallowing motion to send the mouse a bit further in it's mouth is what I am getting at.
It was like the muscles in my neck were able to swallow my throat a bit further down towards my chest.
It felt pretty odd. I was quite overwhelmed for a while.
* * * * *
The kicker was that I was able to swallow food afterwards, with only slight discomfort, compared to the complete inability a few hours before.
Moreover, it seems to have freed up some more of my right shoulder. The jog, swim, jog was much more productive today, and the seeming change of posture during the jog, being more upright, was even more pronounced with very little effort.
And the dizziness stints were very minor today.
Such a roller coaster.
Weeeeeeeeeee!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)