Tag Archives: thirst

Sharing My World 55

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On the first day of spring I started to share my world with the normal world but I got seriously sidetracked, much like the girl on the right.  You know, doing extremely important shit.  But look at me now, having put things off but not given up on them entirely and at last, on Spring Day Four, here we go.

SHARE YOUR WORLD – 2016 WEEK 12

Wanting something to quench your thirst, what would you drink?

Like someone I knew a long time ago, you might THINK there is some magic potion other than water which quenches your thirst, but you would be deluded.  My friends choice at the time was Pepsi.  I suggested it satisfied her desire for sugar and caffeine and had very little to do with thirst, but she would not be persuaded.  This happens sometimes, me being incredibly smart and the other person refusing to have a clue. The reason I have held on to this particular memory might simply be because it’s a rare thing of course.  Me being totally right about something.

Anyway, my final answer is water with no weird things added to it.  I mean seriously, does anyone crave coffee in the desert?

What made you feel good this past week?

Being ALONE.  I would not crave aloneness in the desert either,  but I often crave it here in my house.  On Sunday morning W left for Ontario where he will visit his parents for a couple of weeks.  I don’t think he was gone an hour before I had created a colossal mess taking wallpaper off the back door entrance-way and down the basement steps.  I removed trim and nails and a bit of stucco ceiling by mistake and there was nobody looking over my shoulder being helpful or critical or freaked out by the chaos.  It made me happy to stop abruptly at any random point when the mood hit me and wander off to do something else.  Or nothing else.  I have actually been doing a lot of that these past few days with minimum guilt.

This type of little euphoric pause in being a responsible functioning adult with normal sleeping and eating patterns doesn’t last long and then I will be happy to have someone around to talk to again.  Meanwhile, alone is very okay.

When you’re alone at home, do you wear shoes, socks, slippers, or go barefoot?

Barefoot was always my choice until my feet started to wear out.  Now I wear neon pink flip-flops until my feet get cold and I am forced to change into gigantic fuzzy socks.  When I go outside, even just to empty the garbage, I try to put on some shoes that are half-assed normal. Or go with my nightgown.  Because, you know, neighbors.

Would you rather live where it is always hot or always cold?

When it’s very hot I am even more lethargic than normal and would probably wilt and die without air conditioning.  When it’s very cold at least there’s the option of gigantic fuzzy clothing to get warmed up.

Either way the “always” part would be hard to like. Variety is nice, like snowfall on the second day of spring or rain in the middle of winter.  I don’t know how else to start a conversation with a stranger unless there’s weird weather on which to comment.

Bonus question: What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?

My daughter has offered to paint our house, ceilings and all, and I have finally made a decision on where to start.  Soon our house will be paper free!  Taking the wallpaper off in the entryway has made me remember why I put it up there in the first place.  It covered a multitude of wall flaws in a hurry.  Time to repair them properly.

I know that once one area is all cleaned up with a fresh coat of paint it’s impossible to stop until the next room is done, and the next one and the next one…..  I am grateful to have help, with my most important duty being colour selection.  Truthfully, I’m willing to hand that one over to her as well since so far all I’ve been able to pick out is sixteen different shades of yellow.

The best part of all is taking ten decorative things off the walls and then putting only two back up.  I don’t know if I can do it, but I’m going to try.

The funniest thing that happened this week (I am always grateful for funny things) is the furnace maintenance guy doing his yearly check up on our heating system and wondering why we had set the furnace to half heat.  I said I didn’t know what that meant so he explained about dual versus single and completely lost me in furnace-speak.   He thinks someone must have been randomly pushing buttons on the thermostat and he had to reset everything including the clock.  Okay, that part I understand.  And I was able to blame it totally on W because he’s not here to defend himself.  Bonus.  I am never touching the thermostat again.  It will be forever 19 degrees celsius day and night in all seasons until we die.  One less decision to make.

Okay!  Back to the wallpaper!  Although what’s the point now, might as well wait until tomorrow.  Or the weekend.  It’s not going anywhere.

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What Happened Yesterday

Random art work unrelated to subject because the alternative was a photo of an actual human colon.  You're welcome.
Random art work unrelated to subject because the alternative was a photo of an actual human colon. You’re welcome.

It’s been a long morning for me, thanks to Lacie, the amazing alarm clock dog.  The neighbours next door let her out in the early morning to do her business and she barks her fool little head off at….I don’t know….snowflakes, fence posts, air.  I wonder why she can’t just go for a quiet pee like a normal dog and let me sleep.  But this morning was better than yesterday morning, so I have forgiven her.

Today is a good day because it’s Friday, it’s snowing, and I have nowhere to go!  And no gigantic four litre jug of vile laxative to consume!  I’m going to tell you my colonoscopy story, so if you’d like to skip on to whatever you were going to do next, now’s your chance.

For the three of you who have decided to stick around because you love old people medical stories, here we go.  I have a family history of bowel cancer, and a colonoscopy is something doctors have strongly advised me to have done to detect any potential problems.  The day before the procedure is spent cleaning out the colon, eating nothing, drinking clear fluids, feeling sorry for yourself and staying close to the bathroom.  Black coffee is allowed.  Thank God for small mercies.  For the last eight hours you can have nothing by mouth, not even water.

The first colonoscopy I had was done in 2003 and I was instructed to come back for another one in ten years.  But because of my superior procrastination skills, I was able to stretch that to twelve.  If the results are fine for this one, I may set a fifteen year goal for the next one.

The procedure was scheduled for 11:45 a.m. yesterday.  I like to be insanely early for things and W likes to be a minimum of five minutes late.  The morning started off with a dead battery in my car.  This was all my fault for not driving it enough.  And we could not take the truck because W was having way too much fun making a big production of recharging the battery and slicing a finger open in the process.  This required much swearing and a bandaid.  Then we took a long convoluted route to our destination, slowing down for green lights in the hope that they would turn red before we got to them.  There is no parking at the hospital.  Well, there is, but every parking lot is always full and we know this, but drive around through all of them just to make sure.  There’s lots of parking spaces at the mall nearby, because it’s better to inconvenience sick people than to piss off shoppers.

W dropped me off at admitting 80 minutes instead of the required 90 minutes ahead of time so that I could check in and fill out a form and sit on my ass for a bit thinking about all the things that could possibly go wrong and wondering if he would make it back from wherever he finally managed to park.  I also thought a lot about food and being incredibly thirsty and how much my head was aching.  Eventually I was taken to a prep room where I signed a consent form and donned one of those beautiful back-open hospital gowns I’m so fond of.  The nurse told me to leave my socks on, because just the gown by itself isn’t funny enough.  Then they inserted the IV paraphernalia and told me to lie down and wait.  W had shown up and taken off and come back again while I studied the ceiling tiles.  He told me he went to the hospital cafeteria for soup and a sandwich.  I was going to say “I hate  you” but I didn’t because, although that is a perfectly acceptable thing to say when you’re in labour,  in this case I was faint from hunger and simply didn’t have the energy.

The procedure itself took about fifteen minutes.  The IV is for sedation.  They don’t like to give you too much because it’s a busy place and no one wants you hanging around too long afterwards waking up.  So I was sort of aware of what was going on.  Trust me when I say passing out completely would have been my preferred option.  I was then wheeled to a recovery area where I studied some different ceiling tiles until they removed the tubes and tape and let me get dressed.  Then the doctor popped by to tell me it all went well and although there were a couple of polyps discovered, he wasn’t anticipating they were anything to worry about.

Because you are not allowed to leave on your own, the nurse pointed across the room at W and asked me if that was my ride.  Normally this would not be a funny thing to say, but when you’re coming out of sedation all bets are off.  I imagined introducing him to strangers as “my ride” and thinking that was the most freaking hilarious thing I’d ever heard.  She quickly told me I was free to go.

On the way home “my ride” stopped at Swiss Chalet and watched me eat a huge plate of chicken and ribs and sweet potato fries, washed down with two cups of coffee and three glasses of water.  Then of course I felt sick, but also happy.  It’s hard to explain.

And here you thought nothing interesting or exciting ever happened in my life as a retired person who never starts her car.  I am so glad that today is another day exactly like that.  Even Lacie the yappy wonder dog can’t ruin it.

Half a Glass Please

Daily Prompt:  The Glass  Is the glass half-empty or half-full?

This is a good test for optimism and pessimism, but we all know the real answer is not that simple.  There should be a few more options here, because all things in life are not black or white, right or wrong, empty or full.  There’s always a few gazillion shades of grey, maybe, and sort of to be considered.

Glass Half Full

Every question deserves multiple choice answers as options.  So here you go.  Please check all that apply:

This glass is

1)  half-empty – Boo!

2) half-full – Yay!

3) half-full of water and half-full of air and come on, who really cares.

4) most definitely not the right shape for wine

5) missing ice – where is that damned waiter when you need him?

6) free from fingerprints and thus very suspicious looking

7) the last one left from the set that Aunt Martha gave us when we got married

8) probably a brilliant way to drink straight vodka without drawing attention to yourself

9)  making an ugly water ring on my table

10)  half-empty because my thirst is fully quenched.  I’m pouring the rest of it down the sink.

11)  still half-full because my thirst is fully quenched.  Anyone want the rest of it before I pour it down the sink?

12)  sparkly and shiny right out of the dishwasher because of the rinse agent that is no doubt full of deadly chemicals but don’t worry about that, just be happy about the sparkly and shiny part and drink this, okay?

13)  perfectly all right, and the shape is no longer important to me.  Just pour me some wine. Half a glass is fine.