Category: health

last day in paradise

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Took a trip up to Haileybury, just for giggles and beer.

Not that we were booze cruising. I’m just an aficionado of food and drink, from greasy spoon to Michelin star, from lagers to merlot and back again to scotch and cigars.

I don’t know why. I know it’s all bad for you.

But not in moderation.

And in moderation, we do fine.

Of course, kimchi burger, a stout and later, a bison burger and an IPA may not be the moderation we seek.

Oh, well.

It could also be the coward’s method of self-harm. A slow motion death, in concert with the rest of the planet.

Anyway, it has been beautiful here, despite the family fights, the neighbour fights, the complete lack of downtime or quiet moments to read more than a handful of pages and constant activity in our cabin.

I want to walk into the woods and stay there, but I am ill prepared. I am no outdoorsman.

I wouldn’t last ten minutes.

Target: 800 words
Written: 865 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Brothers Of Earth, CJ Cherryh
Comics: The Crow: Pestilence 1-4
Music: Random Music, again - Pearl Jam, The Rolling Stones, Todd Snider, Spacehog

fire tower

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I couldn’t do it. Didn’t even try it. With my blood pressure being so out of whack and my concerns of having a stroke partway up, I chose not to climb to the top of the fire tower, as in years past. The goal, hopefully, is next year.

Perhaps, if I lose another dozen pounds and get back to the weight I was when I did it the last time, maybe there’s a shot.

I don’t need the aneurysm.

I don’t need the heart attack.

I don’t need the stress of forcing myself to do something that could kill me with no appreciable gain.

I just need to be in the outdoors, in love.

Target: 800 words
Written: 546 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Brothers Of Earth, C.J. Cherryh
Comics: The Crow v2 6-9
Music: Universally Speaking, Red Hot Chili Peppers

heartburn keeps me wide awake

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I mean that literally. It’s possible for someone to just die from lack of sleep, right?

Like, too many half-nights, no naps, no drowsing in the recliner while watching Frasier or the latest Yellowstone, right?

(By the way, how great is Kelly Reilly? Whatever one might think about her character’s behaviour, one must recognize what a terrific character it is, and what a great job she’s doing with it. The show can meander a little bit and doesn’t always seem to have an organic forward purpose, but capturing the endless anger of the tragically damaged, and how that can simultaneously mix with little bits of good, and absolutely vindictive evil, she does a great job.)

Anyway, dying from lack of sleep and heartburn. That’s me.

Over here.

Dying.

Target: 700 words
Written: 916 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: The Elfstones Of Shannara, Terry Brooks
Comics: Symmetry 7, Postal 15, Eden's Fall 2, Romulus 1
Music: Under Attack (B-Sides), Linkin Park

sometimes you gotta listen to your gut

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Or your colon. Or your horoscope.

Things are going bad to worse. I’ve been awake since three in the morning; a casualty of our rat terrier’s deathly fear of storms.

She’s from Texas, originally, which means she likes heat, spicy food and hates fucking storms, because I’m guessing she’s been through a few.

We don’t know the details of her background prior to our rescue; there’s been hints that it was a total hoarder situation, followed by a neglectful situation involving asshole kids.

My gut told me we needed her. Her gut tells me she can’t live without me.

She is my shadow. I am her helicopter parent.

We are in love.

My gut tells me, this one is going to hurt, when it finally comes, almost as much as the Pyrenees.

Or worse.

Target: 700 words
Written: 734 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: The Elfstones Of Shannara, Terry Brooks
Comics: Postal 13-14, Symmetry 6, Eden's Fall 1
Music: Uncle Anesthesia, Screaming Trees

one down

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One night of sleep down. Now, for more. Many more, all in a row. Broken up by the occasional sudden noise, the caught breath, the whispers suggested beneath the steady hum of a blurring fan.

Is that noise? Music?

Someone talking?

What was that creak? Is it the dogs? Is that lump a dog beside me?

Sudden kisses, licks of the face, a French touch unexpected, smelling of licked assholes.

Reassurance.

There is love where there is no noise.

There is no sleep where there are licks.

Target: 700 words
Written: 372 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Pawn Of Prophecy, David Eddings
Comics: The Tithe 3-4, Postal 5-6
Music: Ultimate Survivor, Survivor (again, why?)

exhausted

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I don’t know how I did it today.

I nearly fell asleep about eight hundred times (roughly, give or take a couple hundred).

I need sleep.

Please, let me sleep.

Nothing is right.

Target: 700 words
Written: 407 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Pawn Of Prophecy, David Eddings
Comics: Postal 3-4, The Tithe 1-2
Music: Ultimate Collection, The Who

tired

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I’m getting pretty tired at being woken up way too early by dogs, cats and work.

I love my pets (and my job less), but man, if I’ve gotten more than six hours of sleep in the last week in a night, I’d be surprised. Usually, it’s been four or five.

That’s not enough.

My health is in freefall.

I might have to take up napping, or go to bed way earlier.

I’m already going between 9:30 and 10.

Target: 700 words
Written: 615 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Pawn Of Prophecy, David Eddings
Comics: Wildfire 3-4, Postal 1-2
Music: The Ultimate Collection, The Pogues (fuckin' Shane, eh?)

back to sick

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Motherfucker.

Diarrhea all night.

I’m thinking botulism. Maybe salmonella.

Or the dreaded E. Coli, scourge of my eldest cat, a few years before he died. Went on six months.

Or maybe it’s cancer. Or Crohn’s.

Or dumping syndrome, even though I have all my intestines.

Target: 700 words
Written: 54 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Just A Geek, Wil Wheaton
Comics: Saga 25-28
Music: Out My Way, Meat Puppets (much as I respect and love Kurt Cobain, I will never understand his love for these guys)

so out of it

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I think I might be sick.

Like really sick. Like liver failure or cancer sick.

The onset of diabetes or some aneurysm or stroke waiting to happen.

I don’t like it. I don’t know if it’s true.

I just want to be cold.

I want to sleep forever.

Target: 700 words
Written: 1136 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter
Comics: Saga 17-20
Music: Our Love To Admire, Interpol

storms and sofi

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The poor girl, she’s so nervous.

The first crack of thunder in the far distance and she’s losing her shit and I have to go sit downstairs on the couch with her until she settles enough to get one of her calming treats in her, and then, maybe, we can go back to bed, where she’ll shiver like a leaf in my arms until the drugs kick in and the lightning stops flashing and the thunder fades and she falls gently asleep, allowing me to do the same.

How’s that for a run-on?

What can I say?

I’m tired of not sleeping, but I love the little girl.

Target: 700 words
Written: 702 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter, Seth Grahame-Smith
Comics: Saga 13-16
Music: Our Lady Peace Essentials, Our Lady Peace