Friday, August 1, 2025

     After my nap, I sit outside on the deck, cool damp fog. Sea gulls calling in the distance, two young blue jays scrabbling in the dirt.  Airplanes hidden in the fog fly overhead. I breath in and out. Time to get well.

     In the morning, I sit at the dining room table writing out checks for my bills. Too weak to take them to my mail box.  The meals on wheels volunteer arrives with a bag of food and offers to take my mail to the post office. Such kindness. I go back to resting on the living room couch under a warm blanket.

     Visiting with a friend in the late afternoon I once again go over my current medical experiences.  I am obsessed with these experiences.  My friend says enough, I don’t want to hear more.  She says it is too scary for her. It is scary for me too.

     We watched two more episodes of PERNILLE, on Netflix. An exhausted single mother brings up two teenagers while working as a social worker. My daughter asks if she was as difficult as Pernille’s daughters.  Absolutely I respond.