Imbolc and the Durango Moon
Friday gratefuls: O2 sats still good with concentrators. Conifer Med. Calling me each evening to see how I’m doing. Marilyn who brought chicken soup. Kep. Snuggling. Sick time. Out of the flow of time. Waiting. A sunny Colorado morning. Tara. Susan. Tom.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Oxygen concentrators
Day 4 with the other big C. My head is clear. No fever. Weak though. Moving around to feed Kep wears me out. No appetite. I am able to keep my O2 sats in the safe range with my oxygen concentrators. I find it hard to stay focused for long. House is getting messy as my usual pick up and clean up patterns have seemed too hard. I feel like I’m getting incrementally better. Head ache. Really wanted to give this whole experience a miss.
I work hard at not being defined by my illnesses. Right now, for this week or so, I am defined by Covid. It’s basically shut me down. I get up, feed Kep, come downstairs to sit in my chair. If it’s a particular active day, I might get back up and go fix some food.
Quarantine is easy. Like my life most days anyhow. As I wish it.
So far, and may it stay this way, this is far easier than the flu I had back in 2018. That was harsh illness. Knocked me down and almost out. Lost 15 pounds.
Not feeling like saying much else. Oh, maybe this. My spirits are good. I hope to see the end point of this wrasslin’ match in the next few days.
