Midnight, I’m reading all my blog comments, going back 6 years; I am also rereading 3 or 4 of my latest blog entries. Hmm!
12:15 a.m. Got up to pee for about the fourth or fifth time this evening. Hobbled with cane to the hall bathroom. Came back to the lift chair by way of the kitchen. Turned on a light and took my bedtime dose of lactulose. I’m not sure how to spell that name or urinal, for that matter. [Ah, the computer came to my rescue with the first word.].
Yesterday morning I fell down after opening the front window curtain. I stepped on one of Schuster’s many scattered dog toys; my foot rolled; I landed on my right shoulder, my right wrist, my right knee. I had been proud. I fell three times before going into the hospital last October; nothing broken. This fall was the first since I had gotten out of the hospital in March or April. Nothing hurt seriously until last night; then my shoulder and wrist began to hurt significantly. As the prophet Isaiah might have said, “Oh, woe is me!” [Had to stop and look up how to spell Isaiah’s name; found a series of images; oh joy]. I suspect the arthritis pain masked the new wrist pain for a while.
1:00 a.m. Took time to read some. I started Michael O’Brien’s Plague Journal: Children of the Last Days. I think it is book 3, but it was offered on Kindle Unlimited, so I took it. I read his The Lighthouse and really enjoyed it. I have read other novels by him, a Catholic Christian writer, and always find them interesting and frequently insightful. The Plague Journal is promising. I’m also reading Paul Kingnorth’s The Wake, written in a kind of shadow or ghost Old English. Since his language is a bit trying I am reading the easy one, Journal, along side the more challenging one, The Wake. I just finished Daniel Silva’s latest, The Cellist. Not bad. Silva is always dependable. The is the first time, as far as I remember, that he included the real president of the US (Trump) instead of a fictional character. Putin is there too and the novel more or less ends with Biden’s swearing in ceremony, more or less.
2:00 a.m.
Right hand hurts mightily; it’s time to put the iPad down and close my eyes for a bit.
2:10 a.m. It should be noted that apparently I slept through most of the early evening, only getting awake long enough to get up and go to the bathroom and return to the chair. In any case I closed my eyes and pain flooded into the darkness. [I sleep with my two wall lights on; I like to see where I am when I wake up, though when I close my eyes, it is dark, even with a light on above me; I made the nurses leave my light on in the hospital room too].
Besides the pain, Johnny Horton’s North to Alaska kept running through my head. I paid ten bucks for his Greatest Hits last week. Anyway, here I am again.
[Took the last of the day’s pain pills.]
I was just reminded by a character in O’Brien’s book, who was reading George MacDonald’s Lilith, that the narrator says at some point that it is the function of the universe to make fools of us, so that we can learn to be wise. In my case, consider that accomplished: The Fool achieved. Wisdom is understanding that you truly know nothing.
“So why do you keep writing?” says that damn, ever-present voice in my head?
At the moment, writing helps me “look away” from the damn pain in my hands; besides, I might write something that I really need to know! That was the way it worked in college and after when I was writing papers and essays about texts. The process of writing and rewriting led to greater insight into the text, the story. I am trying to get back to that process a little with this [insert ugly word here] blog. [I have found a text of Walker Percy’s Lancelot; so, there is hope in this area.]. When I say or write the ugly word, “blog,” I think of a mutated, small, stream or swamp or pond creature, as in, “I just stepped on a blog, and there is gooey green stuff all over my shoe! Ugh!
3:00 a.m.
Given the pain pills, I usually don’t have trouble falling asleep.
Time for another trip to the bathroom. I still have my shoes on, so all is well down below, so far.
3:25 a.m. Back from the bathroom. A slightly difficult trip! Shoes off!
Okay. I had trouble getting up. I had trouble standing! I had trouble walking! I was very stiff and inflexible! Agh! Plus, on the way to the bathroom, in the dim light, I kept seeing dark, slimy (?) wriggling things hurrying away from my feet, to avoid being crushed.
Then, when I got there, I had trouble “going.” I had to flush the toilet, running water, to get the water running, so to speak. It worked; I went. Several times. Again the trip back to the chair was through the kitchen. This time I stopped to eat 2 slices of Swirl’s rather wonderful raisin bread (Thomas Bakery somewhere) and to drink a Chobani, Mixed Berry, 7 oz, Smoothie. After that, I made it to the lift chair without further incident.
Well, when I sat down, I accidentally knocked down the Roku remote and turned on the TV when I picked up the remote. The TV was playing Professor T, season 1, episode 3 on KET, called, “Tiger, Tiger.” Mary and I had tried to watch episode 1 on Prime earlier that night and quit. Since there are no accidents, even when I am having one like tripping on Schuster’s toy and falling down, I pressed the record button for the hour episode. Well, I thought, the title of the episode suggests Blake. Wouldn’t hurt to try again, though, unfortunately, the Professor is like Monk, extremely obsessive-compulsive. We’ll see, no pun intended.
Then I took a 5 mg Diazepam, picked up the iPad, and arrived here. The Diazepam should have taken hold by now. I’ll put the iPad down, close my eyes to keep out the light, let in the dark, and try once more to sleep, hoping that Johnny Horton is also done for the night. Oh, haven’t done Monday’s Magnificat reading yet, so I will read that first, then close my eyes.
4:05 a.m.
6:30 a.m. Woke up long enough to take the pain pills!
8:00 a.m. Full bladder! Hurried (ha) to get my shoes on and to get to the bathroom before flood stage set in. Made it! Back to the chair, then to the kitchen to put the teakettle on the range top on low (#4) for coffee. Our regular Mr. Coffee is broken; it lasted a year and a half. Back to the chair to take my morning dose of 10 pills. With the stomach pill, omeprazole, I have to wait an hour to eat anything, so I took it quickly before rushing to the bathroom.
8:45 a.m. All pills taken; time for a nap.
The first of the 3 Isaiah images!
