Friends drove me to the airport when I wasn’t really strong enough on my own. It is two hours away at least. I am very very grateful. They kept my car. I drove them to the ferry and picked one of them up last Friday. My friend L said my brakes were suspect. Two days ago I drove to his house and he took a look. I mostly held a flashlight. The front brakes are fine but the back shoes were down to very thin. I got a crash course in brakes (2006 Scion, a very useful black box of a car) and we took the drums to be ground. We ordered brake shoes and the kit of annoying springs and things.
Everything was ready yesterday so he picked me up. I held the flashlight and then held the back of the pin for one particularly annoying and difficult set of springs. He is a very good mechanic, though not primarily cars. A cell phone picture of the brake before taking it apart and studying the intact one: useful tips. He also pointed out the blue paint. Someone added that in order to keep it all straight. We got it all back together and then tested them. It did need some tweaking to tighten the emergency brake to working order again. I got home at about 4:30pm. Whew!
So today I am tired again and rather achy, but not too bad. I may attempt a quiet day, though we never know what will happen. The best laid plans can be altered at any moment. I hope to recharge my energy today!
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: recharge. And speaking of recharging, here are two experts:
What old deep wound causes you to hurt me and other friends you’ve had in past. What terrors hidden in that brew make you glory in making others sad? You boast to me of throwing people out of your life forever, never friend again. You don’t explain what crimes reroute your heart to where you never speak again to him or me. How many people discarded from your heart and at what interval? How many “friendships” have you departed? And yet you boast that others call you spiritual. “Friends forever,” you said. I wonder why you tell yourself and me that petty lie.
This two too to I want to remember.
Licking? Touch for certain, together.
Warmth and safety and rest and trust.
The trust eroded as you run away
over and over. You say always but
you say other things that I can’t believe.
And yet my heart is stubborn still.
This two too to I want to remember.
This too two I want to remember. Disagreeing. Respectful nearly always. You say, “You argue with everything.” “I think about both sides.” I say. “And if I am alone I discuss both with myself.” You roll your eyes and I grin and continue. Thistoo two I want to remember.
I am reinventing myself now. After my fourth pneumonia, oxygen continuously for a year and now my fifth pulmonologist since 2012. He did not have much to offer. An inhaler but “We can’t be sure that it will keep you from getting pneumonia.”
Well. So with ME-CFS, myalgic encephalopathy chronic fatigue syndrome, now what?
I am at a fork in the path. At least three forks.
Try to do a micropractice, working with Long Covid people. Who either wear masks or I do not see them. I would have to convince the hospital district that it needs me.
Write. I am doing that, but really focus on it and work on publishing. I have so much art from my mother. She did not really enjoy selling it though she loved having shows and would dress up.
I could focus on publicizing and selling my mother’s art.
There is a trunk from my grandfather. I could focus on that. He states that he wants it published. Grandfather, you were a piece of work.
I could just lie around and travel and play with the cats and make music.
Focus on music. I have written a number of songs. Apparently being hypoxic makes me write songs. I think they are peculiar and wonderful too. Flute, voice, guitar, piano, bass. Hmmmm.
Something else. Who knows what will appear? I am doing art too, the two large sculptural pieces in my yard. A fellow doctor scolded me about one. It’s the one with a logging chain and an oxygen tank, attached to a tree. The title is “Tethered”. Now, why would a local doctor object to that? I have some small pieces too that involve found objects and especially feathers and small stemmed glassware.
Many forks! Now I just need more spoons of energy!
Let me set hatred by for this one day let each feast with family full of joys leave that empty, no anger or dismay and maybe keep that chamber empty save for toys Let there be no bombs down from the sky let no one fall to firing with a gun let no flogging make any children cry let no one need to cower or to run I don’t know what to call this day right now Guilt day or day we stole this gorgeous land? I give thanks for love and wonder how We can heal the past, what demands? Two friends will come to feast and sip eggnog My cats will be surprised: they bring their dog.
You needn’t worry that I will importune you. Words explode and swirl upon the page. It’s more likely that I’ll say blankly “Who?” Since I enlarge upon a fascinating stage. Approaching two years since I was taken sick, on oxygen I wrote a poem of farewell. Career ending injury: nature can be such a dick. Breathing is important. Absent it is hell. I am still healing. I hope that I can ski. I am lucky that my fatigue is relatively mild. My oxygen can go 9000 feet up where I’ll see muscle dysfunction truly makes me wild. Friends and family gather close and gather far I feel blessed beneath a lucky star.
Refugees welcome - Flüchtlinge willkommen I am teaching German to refugees. Ich unterrichte geflüchtete Menschen in der deutschen Sprache. I am writing this blog in English and German because my friends speak English and German. Ich schreibe auf Deutsch und Englisch, weil meine Freunde Deutsch und Englisch sprechen.