Put Them Off
Tuesday. All the surge suppressors in the apartment were tripped this morning when I awoke, the bedroom digital clock display blinking a time just after four. Had this happened tomorrow I'd have missed getting to the hospital at six and that isn't something I want to think about. So the clock's nine volt backup battery is charging at the moment and I've tracked down another alarm clock as a backup. It would never have otherwise occurred to me to think about it if it hadn't happened this morning. One of life's little lessons: you only think you're in charge.
I'm realizing there are other factors affecting my state of mind, one of them being this funky sinus upper palate condition. I take a pill for the pain, have for a couple of years, although lately I've been skipping them, taking them once a day instead of the prescribed twice and skipping them altogether as the “pain” isn't really pain anymore, but a depressing discomfort really similar to a head cold, but without the liquids. The “pain” pill now acts more like a mood elevator than anything else and I'm wondering if cutting back on the pill itself isn't causing the “funky sinus-head thing”. Withdrawal symptoms in other words. Withdrawal symptoms that exaggerate my thoughts and feelings as this operation approaches, complicating it in ways I don't recognize. Probably an advantage to having a significant other: someone to bounce ideas off instead of you yourself bouncing off the walls.
Anyway, I suspect these head trips are one of the traps you fall into with age. Thinking about this pill, that pill; this ache, that ache. Have I mentioned my knees have been acting up lately going up or down stairs? You're lucky I haven't, but I'll probably get to it soon enough. So I'm finding things ache for a while and then they go away (unless they don't). I'm happy to put off when they don't for as long as they may like. Longer is better when it comes to knees. And hips. And sinus-head stuff.
So Mr. S will come by and pick me up tomorrow morning at six and that, plus another two and a half hours, and I'm under the anesthetic and oblivious. No more worries until I wake up and then it's a matter of getting through a few days of discomfort (they provide first class drugs for discomfort), something I've done before, and then back to complaining about whatever's next on the list. I'm exaggerating. No, really. I have things in mind to do here at the apartment while I'm recuperating and after tomorrow I have no more excuses to put them off and, quite honestly, don't want any more excuses to put them off. Here in Oakland.
You do sound a little freaked.
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