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MountainDaisy of Flourish
Aug. 30th, 2019 10:17 pmIt's amazing how 8 hours of sleep can take 10 years off one's age. Yeah, that was Wednesday night. Last night, Morpheus took back his gifts and I woke up in the wee hours after a bad dream in which I was being tormented by evil fairies. They made everything go completely black and then they pinched and punched me and tried to take my phone away so they could work mischief with it, while I screamed for help. Unfortunately, the Sparrowhawk was concurrently dreaming that he was playing some kind of ball game, and when he reached out to catch the ball, he inadvertently punched me on the shoulder. That was the final straw, and we both woke up in a tizzy. There was much consternation in the dream world. I tried to go back to sleep, but it didn't work very well. As a result, we were both tired and spaced out today.
My darling Tron had to have a lumbar puncture today, pursuant to the continuing attempt to diagnose what is tentatively being treated as idiopathic intracranial hypertension. Her symptoms are not entirely typical, which I guess could be either good or bad, depending on what it turns out to be. Today, they said her pressure as measured by today's test was "normal," which is good, but anything beyond that has to wait until she sees the neurologist and gets the explanation from her. I'm worried but determined to believe that she will be fine. She is valiantly trying to continue with work and studies, but it's hard. Queenie, who is her namesake in real life, anxiously texted for news while trying to prepare for the hurricane. She sent me pictures of long gas lines, and says there's a shortage of pop tarts, which is a real catastrophe.
Sometime in mid-afternoon, I suddenly crashed, as if injected with a powerful solution of sadness. I couldn't get back out of it. I cut up another four pounds of peaches. I helped the Sparrowhawk with a few last minute preparations for his book club, which was meeting here tonight. I haven't felt moved to join. You'd think that I would like a book club, but I sat in on this one once, when he had persuaded them to read "The Left Hand of Darkness," and I didn't enjoy it. Most of them didn't even read it, and those that did had nothing of interest to say. It's not enjoyable to read books I'm not interested in, and then suffer through conversations that bore me. I'm sorry that I'm so antisocial, but there it is. I took myself off to the bookstore, where I continued to be sad, lurked in a corner, and skimmed most of a very sad book about Army wives. Yikes. I'm glad we didn't end up on an Air Force base in Del Rio, Texas, as we almost did one time before the Sparrowhawk came to his senses. Luckily, they were all leaving when I came back, so I could eat a sandwich and some peaches in peace. It remains to be seen what awaits us beyond the gate of ivory tonight.
My darling Tron had to have a lumbar puncture today, pursuant to the continuing attempt to diagnose what is tentatively being treated as idiopathic intracranial hypertension. Her symptoms are not entirely typical, which I guess could be either good or bad, depending on what it turns out to be. Today, they said her pressure as measured by today's test was "normal," which is good, but anything beyond that has to wait until she sees the neurologist and gets the explanation from her. I'm worried but determined to believe that she will be fine. She is valiantly trying to continue with work and studies, but it's hard. Queenie, who is her namesake in real life, anxiously texted for news while trying to prepare for the hurricane. She sent me pictures of long gas lines, and says there's a shortage of pop tarts, which is a real catastrophe.
Sometime in mid-afternoon, I suddenly crashed, as if injected with a powerful solution of sadness. I couldn't get back out of it. I cut up another four pounds of peaches. I helped the Sparrowhawk with a few last minute preparations for his book club, which was meeting here tonight. I haven't felt moved to join. You'd think that I would like a book club, but I sat in on this one once, when he had persuaded them to read "The Left Hand of Darkness," and I didn't enjoy it. Most of them didn't even read it, and those that did had nothing of interest to say. It's not enjoyable to read books I'm not interested in, and then suffer through conversations that bore me. I'm sorry that I'm so antisocial, but there it is. I took myself off to the bookstore, where I continued to be sad, lurked in a corner, and skimmed most of a very sad book about Army wives. Yikes. I'm glad we didn't end up on an Air Force base in Del Rio, Texas, as we almost did one time before the Sparrowhawk came to his senses. Luckily, they were all leaving when I came back, so I could eat a sandwich and some peaches in peace. It remains to be seen what awaits us beyond the gate of ivory tonight.
