Yesterday diminutive and delicate came up.
"Yes and no." says B.
"Mmmm?" I say, making food.
"Diminutive, yes but delicate, no."
Oh. I grin. Yes.
This is good. I am 5'4" and right now 132 pounds at the doctor's office with clothes and shoes. So I dunno, 126? 124? Sold my clinic doctor scale. Oh, well.
But it means that B has decided I'm not delicate, in spite of being sick as shit from March through July. With all the appended psych stuff. He was horrified that I was sick and then even more horrified as he understood that it's probably a chronic illness, even though only one of the docs ever wanted to call a spade a spade. A chronic illness that I have been pretty lucky not to die from.
On the other hand, I've only gotten really sick from it four times in the last 21 years. And each time triggered by grief: my mothers death/marriage death. Sister's. Father's. And then the death of my clinic. It just killed me to have all those people come in to say goodbye.
I am on oxygen part time now. I apparently have sleep apnea but am one oxygen point shy of having the stupid insurance pay for it, so I have to pay for the stupid machine. I've been wearing oxygen at night for months, so it shouldn't be that bad.
We have gone up above 3000 feet and I am fine without oxygen. My muscles are still f'ed up and if I overdo, I get the diverticular symptoms again. Ooooo. Not good. I am backing off on anything that triggers that. I just don't like patronizing our local ER and I've already been there twice this year.
I am like a patient I had, P. I wrote a poem about her and have a signed consent to publish it. P had MS, took two people and a crane to get her out of bed. It didn't matter. She was all over town in her electric wheelchair. I do not know if she is still alive. She moved down to the nursing home in the bigger county south of us. Good decision, I think, the ones here are too small for her. If she is alive, I hope she is still raising hell.
I suppose my lungs are delicate. Or my health is. If I can get my muscles working again, I hope to ski in January. So there!
#28: Iron Noder