It’s a little late for me to start this entry, 10:36pm, but I feel obligated to provide something to read for those who make it a routine to check this site every morning, knowing there won’t be anything worth reading, unless they’re simply insterested in seeing just how long a sentence can be and still make sense. Typically, I make an attempt to add natural breaks in my narratives, but occasionally become so involved with the topic that I find it difficult to put an end to whatever it is that I’m “saying”. Complicating that is the fact that I really have no idea what’s going to happen. I have no plan. Things just start appearing on the screen. Sometimes I think, perhaps, I’m the victim of a remote viewer who has the ability to take over my mind and do this “stuff” but that doesn’t really doesn’t make any sense because remote viewers are not supposed to have that ability. They can just look at what’s going on. I think it’s something else. Maybe an alien infestation.
I went to the VA rehab clinic today for the first time and met Katie, my therapist. Diane thinks it’s unfortunate that all she does therapy on is body parts – nothing mental, which is something Diane’s been campaigning for since 1989. She thinks I’m nuts most of the time. Perhaps I am, but I’m really OK with it. I’m comfortable in my head most of the time, and I have this blog for a relief valve to unload all the excess bits I no longer need. It’s kind of like cleaning your garage, but I do it every day. I purge. Sadly, it’s not a purge that results in weight loss. Bits don’t weigh hardly anything at all because they’re really tiny. I guess that’s why I have so many of them to unload. I just wish I could find a reason why I wind up with all those extra ones. Am I depriving some other lost soul of bits because I have so many? Or, do I actually have the right amount of bits and I’m actually rendering myself a little bit less capable by getting rid of some that haven’t yet been designated as active? That would explain why some … most of what I share is meaningless drivel. I should be unloading expired bits, instead. But, to bits expire. Somehow, I think not.
Wow! That’s just getting way over my head, there. Reminds me of a Child Psychology class I took once. Scary stuff, psychology. BF Skinner was a weird guy, but devoted to his chosen line of work. For that I applaud him. I’m sure his daughter does, too.
I mentioned that I met Katie today. Nice young woman. Tall, lean, and could probably fling me to the floor without batting an eye. She was checking my right hip action because it’s being problematic and hurts most of the time. The preliminary diagnosis by my primary care doctor was sciatica. I think that’s something to do with nerves. Anyway, it hurt a lot most of the time, until my PCD prescribed legal drugs for me to take. I take them twice a day for inflamation. Now my body has an alarm clock that goes off every 12 hours because the next pill is due. My goal with therapy is to get rid of the meds because I have happy places in my head I can access when the pain is too bad, and they constipate me. I know, the last thing you need to know before you begin your day is that Jerrie’s constipated. Too bad. He is. Now you know. So there.
Moving on …
Before going to the VA, I mowed the front yard twice. I had to do it twice at different heights so the exhaust tube to the bagger wouldn’t plug up every 15 inches. The grass is tall because it’s been well watered since the last time I was allowed to mow it. Lots and lots of rain. I did the lower yard for the dogs, too, but could easily have mowed the three foot square area they use. Since Ziva went to live with Jeff, Panzee and Ozzie seem to be lost puppies, so to speak, because they have no one to follow into the field. Especially when it’s dark. I have to hold a flashlight for Panzee and walk down to the yard with her. She doesn’t like the old compressor Jack gave me. It scares her. She came out the kitchen door this morning, saw it on the lowere patio and ran all the way around the house to the front door. There was no way she was going to be around if there was a chance it would start up. Ozzie could care less. He just spins in circles and barks.
I’ve been at this for 34 minutes and it’s time to stop. The leg and hip hurt again and I have to get prone. Please feel sorry for me. I have a list of exercises from Katie that I must do multiple times a day. She said I have to walk 30 minutes every day, too, and walking around the house, and up and down stairs doing “stuff” doesn’t count. The walking HAS to be part of an exercise routine. So, let the walking begin. Tomorrow. Well even take the dogs with us.