dream

I had a happy dream last night.

I was outside. I don't know what time it was -- dark enough to be able to see the stars, but light enough to see. All of the lights of the houses were out, and everything was quiet -- sleeping. I looked up, and saw three swallows flying together. Each swallow had the tail feathers of another swallow in its beak, so they were connected in a ring that was spinning as it moved. I felt happy and excited to see them. I ran along beneath the swallows, pointing up at them and calling out, just in case anyone could hear.

The dark lake

For some time now, I have been seeing the image of a dark lake in the back of my mind; a black lake, dark and smooth, against a backdrop of the images of my thoughts. It has been growing, sending out investigative arms, so that each time I picture it in my mind's eye, it is larger.

Tonight it occurred to me that its blackness didn't indicate presence (as of a fluid such a water or oil); rather, it indicates absence, the absence that is growing inside my mind; erasure.

Twisted spiral

I saw a thread with the same title on Ravelry just now. It seemed appropriate.

I just went out to put an envelope in the mailbox. I was greeted by my neighbor two doors down, who was sitting out on his front steps with his son and his father. I walked down to say hello. I noticed that the little boy, whom I last saw in a carriage, was walking and talking, and then the wife came out with another baby. The new baby was as big as the older son was the last time I saw him. Beautiful family -- healthy, smiling, and strong. Both the husband and the wife asked me how I had been, and commented that they hadn't seen me for a long time.

It made me realize that I have vanished -- fallen out of life. My time is not the time of healthy people. In one sense, it seems endless, interminable; but then, I'll have an experience like seeing my neighbors, and realize that more than a year has passed. I can't remember all the days that came in between seeing the two children, or even writing the posts I've posted here. I completely missed the wife's second pregnancy, and that must have lasted for 9 months. I have a vague picture of blue balloons attached to their front door, but was that for the first son or the second? It's like a dream.

My vista has narrowed to just trying to stay alive.

Bitter greens

Today for lunch I had three handfuls of raw cashews and a serving of arugula braised with garlic and beef broth. The arugula tasted good. About 15 minutes after eating I got very nauseous. I thought I might throw up -- very rare for me. Then I started to sweat, and get burning pains in my joints. The nausea passed fairly quickly, but more than 2 hours later I am still sweating like a pig.

This is my second big sweat of the day -- I had one this morning, a little while after I took my morning meds (Malarone and Tinidazole right now).

I wonder if bitter greens have benefical effects against tick-borne infections? According to this article, Japanese knotweed is a bitter green, but the part that is used as an herb is the root, I think.

I am noticing on this combination of meds that I have more energy. Yesterday I actually did a tiny bit of dusting, and I just finished a 36" x 48" afghan after only 2 weeks. And today, I did 2 loads of laundry. I still feel completely pithed -- devoid of personality and life -- but it's good to be able to do a little bit more.

Trying to be somewhere else 3

Another day. More diarrhea. My ninth year. The only days in that time that I have not had diarrhea were just after my cancer surgery, when I was given anticholinergic medications, and for a brief 5-week period right after I first started taking Malarone. Adding the Lyme meds back in started up the diarrhea again.

Today's happy memory: singing White Coral Bells with my mother in the backyard of our first house in Denver. I remember that it was a nice day, that we were sitting on the ground (maybe doing gardening?), and that she wasn't angry...a rarity in my childhood experience.

White coral bells
Upon a slender stalk
Lilies of the valley on my garden walk
Oh don't you wish
That you could hear them ring
That will happen only when the fairies sing

We sang it in a round (my first experience of that) and it was achingly pretty.

Trying to be somewhere else 2

A lot of inflammation, today. Pain in my hands, feet, hips, and jaw, and deep fatigue. I had a list of four things to do today, and I only did one.

Time for more memories...

I am hiking in the Columbia Gorge with my friend Colleen, in college. She showed me a place with a short hike to a beautiful pool. On the day we went, there was no one else there, and we took lunch. I remember walking through tall trees, and being aware of my total insignificance -- how unimportant I was in the scale of the gorge, or even of the oldest trees -- and feeling happy and at peace.

I loved those hills. The Elephant Hills -- that is how I used to think of them, because their skin and shapes reminded me of an elephant's.

Night walk

I went for a walk tonight. Even a year ago, this statement would have been commonplace, but since then I have hardly walked. On the combination of tinidazole and Malarone, I'm having less joint pain than I have in a long time, so tonight on the spur of the moment I decided to give it a try.

I took it very slowly, and only went to the end of the block and back. It was cool, cool enough for me to feel it through the sleeves of my fleece jacket, and the air smelled of wood smoke. On the way down, other people were coming and going on the street; a neighbor returning home with his date, a man leaving on a bicycle, someone dropping others off in a car. The crickets were chirping, stopping one by one as I walked by and restarting after I had passed. On the way back, it was just me and the crickets.

I felt a little bit unsteady without my walker, and my right arm went numb during the walk (I have been having neuropathy again since I took the medication break), but it felt good to be moving. I hope I will be able to do it again soon.