Well I knew the time was approaching and sensed it when we were together and Curly finally dropped the other shoe so it may be time for me to move out of here as soon as next month. That's just a few weeks. I have no idea where I might put all the stuff. Storage is so expensive. Moving it is a full day heavy physical labor or at least a few hundred dollars, neither of which I have to give these days with the savings dwindling and the body deteriorating. We will talk soon about his plans and my more precise time line to be out of here, but he he said wants to start major renovations here in October because he wants the place to produce income.
Originally he said 2-3 years, but I guess his need for more income has changed. Originally I said my stay here would be temporary, but we did discuss my renting once it was fixed up. Without an income, however, my car is the only place I can afford to live right now if not rent-free in a friend's place. If I tried to describe the stress under the numb, the words would likely scare us.
By the standards of success in this world, I have achieved failure status once again.
Yes, again (if you recall the blogs {which were called journals back then} from the late 1990s). Just give me a tent in the back of the woods where nobody can try to change me, where seldom is heard any judgmental word and I can live just as I want to be.
So the news comes during one of my more vulnerable weeks as I decided to break away from the pig-out influences of my card playing partners and take dropping weight seriously. That weakens the body energy and puts the body at risk for injury or worse. The kidney stones have not been too bad yet, but the kidneys have been reacting by going wonky on regulating body temperature which sucks because I do not have air conditioning and this is still the hottest time of the year. I have also allowed this body to deteriorate so stamina is at it's lowest ebb of the whole lifetime, which is as stupid as stupid gets. No daily work activities and even worse, the past week of staying in bed a lot more than usual for healing purposes.
Yesterday (when I was young), I decided to head out to Saturday morning softball with the seniors which is usually easy for me as there is not much running. I decided to pitch batting practice and threw at least 250 pitches and felt way more tired than I ought to feel. I attributed it to the minimal eating I've done this week, just a few hundred calories a day, but the overall weakness from lack of regular exercise definitely shows. I ate a pack of peanuts I keep in my cooler (a cooler I almost forgot to pack, which could have proved deadly) and that helped and during the four hours I was out there, I drank two Gatorades and four waters, all in all about a gallon of fluids.
It wasn't enough because I pushed myself running bases. I crossed the heat exhaustion line and started having the early signs of heat stroke (or serious hear exhaustion symptoms). Blurred vision, poor focus, eyes not responding to light well, shortness of breath lasting a half hour, dizziness, muscle cramping, and overall body exhaustion. I sat for a bit, then made it to the car and turned on the air conditioner and put a bottle of ice behind my neck and tried to get comfortable. Not easy in that car. Living in it will not be as comfortable as the station wagon I had last time I lived in a car.
Nausea came and then a few bouts of dry heaves. Sucked to be me. I thought about dialing 911. Eight or so people were sitting about ten feet from the car drinking beers and talking but I did not know any of them well enough to as them to come sit with me. I don't fit in with people. I also did not want them treating me like I was a liability next time I came out and played. I texted Jackson hoping she would have time to talk but she was busy. She did call back after a few texts but I could tell she wanted to get back to what she was doing so I went back to being by myself focusing on staying conscious and stabilizing my head and stomach.
I started driving home with her on the phone, hoping she'd stay with me in case I felt faint or got worse, but she insisted I should focus only on driving. She didn't understand that her voice helped me focus, or else she just needed to get back to what she was doing. I was able to drive to Harpo's place, but alas, Harpo panics a lot more than Jackson (both have a lot of anxiety) and he did not help as much as ge slowed the recovery process. Some people just can't sit and be still. It still helped to know I had someone I could go to.
I drove home, half showered, applied the fungal salve, and laid down. I texted several people and one person texted me who I didn't text. Most responded and that helped distract me a bit. I turned on internet YV and slowly recovered and fell asleep. How much the news from Curly had in distracting me from monitoring the body temperature or pushing myself to near fatal limits, who knows. I know I am in high stress mode not sure where I will live next month and even more not sure where I will be putting all the stuff. I guess it's time to trash a lot of it. I did promise drama, right?
Sleep, perchance to wake up again...
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