I think of you as dead

I think of you as dead.
Love is not dead, not mine for you.
This is not respectful to those
truly dead. Yet you are dead to me
in that you lie and say forever.
Torched and ashes, now it’s never
and the real you is dead to me.
I love the you that made a different choice,
that loved me back. He holds my hand
and walks with me and laughs with me
daily. And there is nothing you can do
to stop him and me. If anyone asks, you are dead
to me, dead forever, and I will love
whoever my heart chooses, for all time.

________________________________

I found the chalcedony nodule on Indian Island yesterday.

Negotiating peace

I spend a long day wrestling with love
arguing with myself back and forth
I am no angel descended from above
Those undeserving of my love make me wroth
yet my core argues that it still loves them
and agrees their cruelty’s beyond the pale
I snarl and cough and choke on bitter phlegm
Defend my self staying far away and hale
My core agrees I shall not tolerate abuse
Forgive yet we despair we’ll ever reconcile
They show no guilt nor shame for their misuse
My core says let them be: she is so mild
Negotiation done: Agreed. I may love those who I love
But I leave contact with them to the angels and Beloved.

_____________________

Sonnet 10

Long Covid healing crash

I have a friend with Long Covid. Eight months now.

My friend describes blood sugar crashes. She does not have diabetes and was tested before Covid. She has not been tested again.

“Sometimes I eat dinner, feel better, and then an hour later I feel terrible again. I have to eat again. And I ate extra in November and all that happened is I gained ten pounds. So eating extra doesn’t work.”

I suspect that as the clue: the feeling terrible an hour after she eats.

I call her the next day: “Spread the carbohydrates out. It could be that your body is producing too much insulin, storing the glucose and carbohydrates, and then your blood sugar gets too low. That can happen early in type 2 diabetes, but this could also be a healing mode.”

I write about carbohydrates to her. Anything that is not a fat or a protein is a carbohydrate. So all the grains and all the vegetables and fruits have carbohydrates, sugars. Glucose, fructose, maltose, lactose. Milk products contain lactose, but also fat and protein. Avocados are weird fruit and mostly fat. Sugar beets and peas are high sugar vegetables. A small apple is 15 grams of carbohydrate and a large one is 30. A tablespoon of sugar is also 15 grams of carbohydrate. A coke had 32 grams and a Starbuck’s mocha has over 60 grams. I quit drinking them when I looked that up. Empty calories.

A cup of kale has only 7 grams of carbohydrate for our bodies. The rest is fiber that we can’t break down into sugars. Fiber doesn’t raise our blood sugar. I wonder about cows with their four stomachs: they can break grass down into food and we can’t.

At any rate, my friend is going to try 3-4 meals a day with only 30-45 grams of carbohydrate and three snacks, at 15-30. This is an athlete and young. Most of my patients were closer to 70, so would need to do the lower end of those numbers.

I had crashes after my second and third pneumonias in 2012 and 2014. Strep A pneumonia and strep throat of the muscles. It hurt, like all over Strep A. After the 2014 one, it was six months before I could go back to work. When I did, it was exhausting. I was only seeing 3-5 patients a day at first and could barely do that. I ate one meal a day because food crashed me. As soon as I ate I went to sleep. My MD did not believe me. I saw a naturopath too. She claimed it was a food allergy and I said, “I don’t think so. I think it is a healing crash. I think my body is doing a ton of repair work and wants me asleep and not moving much.” Over the next six months it slowly improved. I went to 2 meals a day. Since then I really do not eat until I have been up for 4-6 hours. Expect tea with milk. And yes, I am getting a little nutrition through the milk, fat and protein and lactose.

I had one patient who said eating made her faint. I didn’t know what to do, but she was in the ICU, ate lunch and then fainted into her tray. The nurse was standing right there and immediately did a blood sugar and called me. Her blood sugar was in the low normal range. We transferred her to Virginia Mason in Seattle. She came back with a diagnosis that seemed pretty much like hand waving. Idiopathic (meaning the doctors dunno why) central (ok, brain) something syndrome, which meant yeah, she faints after she eats and doesn’t have diabetes and that is weird.

I am reading about similar neurological symptoms with Long Covid and also POTS: postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome. This translates to heart rate goes faster than it should when the person stands up. Again, the cause is not clear and it’s not clear how to fix it.

Once an older patient went to the neurologist to discuss getting dizzy when she stood up. She returned grumpy. “He said that I just have to stand up slowly because I am 80. I don’t feel like I’m 80. I want to hop out of bed like I always have. But if I do, I nearly faint.” Her body was taking longer to equilibrate blood pressure after she stood up. The neurologist said no medicine: stand up slower. She grumpily complied.

I told my friend that maybe the pancrease is stressed and producing too much insulin. To store food. But another possibility is that her body wants her to lie down and rest so that it can do healing work after eating. This would make any young person impatient, but sometimes we have to listen to our bodies. I have learned THAT the hard way.

Blessings.

__________________

The photograph is of a Barbie ambulance/clinic. It does have a gurney, but the back opens up to be a fairly well appointed clinic, with lots of details, including a television in the waiting room. Today the doctor has wings. Fairy? Angel? We are not really sure.

DIY FUD

I am Elwha, cat.

My mother has changed. For the first year she fed us many times a day, but now she is nefarious. She left for three weeks and a man came in daily. He fed us but less generously. She now feeds us twice a day and less than in the past.

I make offering to the gods in hopes of more food, that the gods will influence my mother and turn her good again.

I place the mouse effigy in my bowl. A mouse would be delicious and if alive it would be delightful fun as well! We watch the birds out the windows and long to catch them.

There is no response from Mother or the gods.

I try again.

Another mouse, a symbol of technology, that sponge that she removes fur from furniture. Mother seems to love technology and will not let me lie on the warm keyboard. She lets me have this technological marvel. I have chewed it but it is not nutritious and gives me nothing. There are wires inside. It is fun for play but not edible.

I will wait and hope that the gods influence my mother and that more food is forthcoming.

_____________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: nefarious.

Small hopes

Alone today and quiet, happy with it
“I think you write more than I do, even though
I write for a living.” “I love it,” I say.
It is my daily quiet writing time: four am.
No one is here but me and the cats
and they just ate and are grooming each other.
Just me and paper and pens and computer
still dark out and cold. I check to see if it is clear.
No, not today. I hope to see the green comet.
Little hopes, small ones, quiet ones, that do not
bother anyone. No one is jealous or wants to take them
away. I hold them warm in my heart, Beloved,
and do not think of love.

_________________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: temptation.

National Bird

“Hey Martha! Look, she’s got a real camera! Serious zoom lens on that baby!”

“Ralph, look dignified!”

“Dignified! Are you kidding?”

“Ralph, we are the National Bird! Bald Eagles! Look proud! Like me!”

“Nah, Martha, I’m crossing my eyes. She’ll get a surprise when she downloads THESE photos! Come on, Martha, mug for once!”

“Ralph, you are impossible!”


For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: mischief.

Wooden heart

Heart of wood, by the sea
What do the spirits say to me?
His heart is stone not wood you see
And he’ll never come back, never come back, never come back to me
Tree torn from land by flooding water
bark and branches torn asunder
thrown back to the beach stripped and bare
bleached and dried lying there
grass and sand and stones on strand
I wonder how much a heart can stand

This doesn’t really fit today’s Ragtag Daily Prompt. I was looking for another photograph which fits and found this one.