Life Can Be a Dream

“You cannot imagine the craving for rest that I feel—a hunger and thirst. For six long days, since my work was done, my mind has been a whirlpool, swift, unprogressive and incessant, a torrent of thoughts leading nowhere, spinning round swift and steady” ~ H. G. Well

“For a time I hovered in that peaceful dreamland where nothing at all works properly but everything is okay.” ~ William Giraldi

“What gets us into trouble is not what we don’t know. It’s what we know for sure that just ain’t so.”  ~ Mark Twain

Here there be coffee! It’s been a difficult weekend, and I am not usually so eager for the coffee, but I simply need it this morning. The caffeine that is. I mean, I had no intention of falling back asleep earlier, but it overtook me, and I woke up a few minutes ago, feeling pretty good considering the past few days. I’d been feeling sick all week last week. Tuesday it started to grow more insistent. Wednesday and Thursday were difficult. Then came Saturday. The past few mornings were some of those deep cold mornings. I did not want to go out, and my skin was hurting all over, so when the frigid air hit skin anywhere it hit it’s mark. Anyway, these details are not necessary, but I needed something to wake the writer up to get this blog post going again. It works. Anyway, I went into work and told the boss I needed to go to Urgent Care as soon as my partner arrived for her shift. At Urgent Care I got a practitioner who . . . let’s just say she wasn’t the one I got last time, about a year ago, and that is something for which I am grateful. That one, a year ago, had me feeling patronized, which seriously had me pissed off. But I held my tongue. This one was much better, a highly professional, and sweet, young woman, obviously of Irish descent. I could honestly call her a cutie. I don’t know about you, but I am quite comfortable with cute medical providers. Just sayin’. I prefer women providers as well. That’s stems from my NDE and the Light Being who met me there: a Celtic goddess known for her healing touch. The goddess is in all women, right. You do the math. Turns out she put me on a nebulizer for five minutes or so, prescribed Albuterol, and a cough suppressant, and sent me on my way after offering me a repeat of the nebulizer thing should I feel overburdened breathing. A couple of those coughing fits the past few days were scary violent affairs. Suppressants are good. And I may well return for that treatment she offered if these here lungs still need such a thing. I was wheezing way bad by the time I had arrived. Two days before it actually woke me up, and as I was in a hypnopompic state, I heard it as a distant conversation. It was the darnedest thing. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about, then it turned out it was my lungs gurgling, and I was like all WTF and stuff. Anyway, Sunday was a day of rest, rather sleep I should say. Sleep in two hour chunks, starting at 10:30 Saturday night. On and off. Asleep then awake. It was like Moe Howard of the Three Stooges: “Hey! Wake up and go to sleep!” I complied. So I’m still in a doable dreamy state of consciousness this morning but I intend to work a full workday today. We shall see. Life can be a dream. Sometimes you have to get sick to be reminded of that.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

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