Let me just start right in by saying that I am immensely thankful for all of you that manage to write so often over at your spots. You are Miracles and Superheroes, and you make my morning coffee even more pleasant. Sometimes, I have to peer over a giant orange tabby head to see you, but it is always well worth it.
Speaking of giant orange tabby cats, I think Piper's behaviour was kept in check by Marlowe, or she was a sort of calming influence because since she has been gone, he has really become a loudmouth and a tyrant. I'm not used to being bossed around by anybody, let alone a cat, but it would seem that I am that cat's bitch. And I'm beyond sorry that I ever, ever put ice in his water the first time. Is there anyone else whose cat demands his beverage On The Rocks?
On the rocks. Sigh. Let's get this onerous part out of the way. After more than 30 different blood tests, an MRI, two EMGs, and a few doctor's appointments, I've been diagnosed with Epstein-Barr and Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (EB/ME) ME used to be called chronic fatigue, a term that you're probably more familiar with. The way it was explained to me is that the E-B likely came from my severe bout of mononucleosis when I was 17. The virus lies dormant forever, like chicken pox. It can resurface anytime and cause E-B in some people the way the chicken pox viruses causes shingles. My E-B is severe and accompanied by unusual stress, leading to ME.
I can't go into much detail about the unusual stress, but I'll just say this: in late August and half of September, we helped Sam look for, find, and buy a house. For him and Zydrunas. In all of October, we have helped him clean, refurbish, and furnish the house, move into it, and provide whatever support we could throughout. Jared and his family have been monumental support as well. All this had to be because someone's social media wasn't as fun as it used to be.
In November I'm going to try to post every single day and ignore all that stupid, unfair bullshit about my health situation and everything. I have to live it, but I don't have to talk about it ad nauseum here in my blog. I always appreciate your kind comments and any advice or support; I'm just not going to make it a topic here. I trust that you'll be grateful.
Before I go, I want you to check out this passage from Meet Me in Another Life by Catriona Silvey. I read this a while ago and greatly enjoyed it, even though its genre is not usually one I enjoy. Engie reviewed it and I was immediately drawn in. (Engie, I tried to search for your review and I couldn't find it to link to it.) Anyway, I was reading intensely when I was jolted by this passage:
Maybe you're not a knitter or a crocheter, so this went right by you. When you knit, you use two needles. But when you crochet, you use one, and those who crochet almost universally call them hooks, not needles. Did this interfere with my enjoyment of the book? No, it did not. Do I wish that my brain didn't constantly notice these things? Yes, I do. Sigh.
Right now, I'm only reading our CBBC book, The Joy Luck Club, even though I have several books in my TBR pile. And let's not even talk about my stack of The New Yorker magazines. As I said, I'm looking to November for some fresh, renewed time. Maybe that will be more reading time. Maybe that will be less rain and possible short walk time. And for sure I'm going to try for more blogpost time.
Thanks for showing up, both at your spot and here in Comments. You make my days.
