(crawling out the hole in the top)
Awright...so it wasn't exactly “warm”, today...
but the sun was out, and it got into the high 50's,
with North West winds at 5-10 mph.
I went out to the monastery and piddled around,
doing this and that.
I think the ladder is what did me in, finally.
It is so incredibly easy to damage myself.
Out of the 5 hours I spent out there, perhaps half that time was spent puttering—the rest, just sitting there, reading.
Lots of little things knocked off my rather extensive mental list...jammed the Ravi Shankar, and got into what for me is a groove: “work” for 20 minutes, sit down for 15.
Cripplehood teaches one Patience.
If I sit down for any longer, I'll start to seize up...like the Tin Man...and become furniture; so I must goad myself to continue.
Eventually...maybe 6 hours of this, maybe three(depending on weather and other factors), and I'll notice the Pain leaking past the drugs.
If I'm really in to what I'm doing, I sometimes don't notice the first stabs.
But it always ends with me staggering about, packing up the laptop and my lunch dishes, and crawling on home.
That was at around 3 pm.
Limped through the monastery Laundry Cycle and rekindled the fire, and I've been right fucking here, ever since.
I'm tempted to attempt a hot hot bath, but I know from experience that it will(counter-intuitively) make me feel worse, when all's said and done.
It'll feel great for as long as I'm submerged...but when I get out, and venture into this impossible to heat little house, the shivering will bring agony.
I'm clockwatching...another hour and a half til I can take another norco.
That indicates what is called “pseudoaddiction”...which is not addiction, at all, but rather a product of undermedication. Doctors often mistake it for the real thing...patient always complaining that it ain't enough.
This, in it's turn, is a product of our idiotic war on drugs..hypersuspicion and simplistic assumptions...all of which leads to a lack of trust.
I am lucky in this regard:
I have a good, 15 year long relationship with my Doctor.
Problem is that Texas requires paper prescriptions...and only a month's worth at a time.
So manana, I make the trek to Fredericksburg...70 miles, round trip.
That's gonna hurt, too.
At least the gloom has past, and the frigidity.
...all of the foregoing with Rand Paul nattering in the background:
Those fuckers just won't quit!!
Forward!! Into Dark Age!!
Neofeudalism is the American Way!!
….and folks out here, and elsewhere, swallow it whole...never
realising that they are targets, as well.
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