15 January 2021

January is half over and I have ridden a grand total of zero miles.

Ya…it has not been a great start to a new year. I am just now feeling better, but I’m also 99% sure I have an ulcer, which isn’t helping anything. The pain from that is not too bad during the day, but I wake up every night after roughly 4 hours feeling like I’ve been stabbed with a hot poker. The pain goes away if I get food into my stomach, so I’ve been taking a snack to the bedroom at night, and when I wake up, I eat.

It works.

And yes, I know I need to see a doctor. I’ve been putting it off because, ew, doctor-office-cooties, and also…my brain settles on the worst case scenarios and it has decided that if I go, I will leave that appointment with 72 different types of cancer and an unwanted mutant puppy.

I’m giving it through the weekend, and then yes, I will see him.

+ + +

For a lot of the time I was feeling like crap, I also did not feel like working. Or reading. Or doing much of anything. I was pretty sure that the day I dove into a good book and then pounded out several pages on the next Wick book (yes, it goes on without Max, but I suspect it will still be his book, because…Max) that I was on the upswing.

What I still haven’t done, though, is ride. But I think today will be the day, if not heading outside, I’ll get a slow start inside. The bike is up on the trainer, ready to go—I checked the tires last night and made sure the TV was signed into Netflix—I just need to get my ass on it.

+ + +

He was a cinnamon donut freak, too...
Something stupid but also kinda major… I ate cinnamon toast last night.

I haven’t been able to bear the idea of it since Max died. Every time I thought about it, the memory of him jumping onto my lap and eating it from the other side slapped at me, and I just couldn’t. He was a little freak where cinnamon was concerned, and the last time I’d had it was towards the end for him; as much as it had to hurt to get up on the loveseat and then make his was across the arm of it, onto the footrest of the recliner, and then my lap, he could not resist.

And yes, I let him take bites. I would have given him anything at that point.

I honestly thought I would gag on it and could have gone the rest of my life without it, but… yeah.

The Spouse Thingy has been the same way with chicken salad. He hadn’t been able to open a can of chicken because that was his thing with the cats…he got the chicken and they got the water with little bits of meaty goodness floating in it. Buddah got to lick the mayo spoon.

I don’t think he’s had any since Buddah died, but this morning I noted there was a chicken and mayo-smeared bowl in the kitchen sink.

It made me happy.

And also a little annoyed because the dishwasher is RIGHT THERE.

+ + +

All right.

Off my asterisk to actually do things other than drooling while watching TV.

I have lottery tickets to buy.


2 January 2021

I didn't make any New Year's resolutions, per se, but I did set some goals, and one of them was to start the year with a bike ride. Long or short, it didn't matter; I wanted to set the tone of the year by whittling away at my mileage goals, and hit at least the same number of miles I did last January.

The first time...and the sickest I have ever been
You might remember that I have a history of colitis, and it raises its ugly head at the least opportune times (and if you remember this, you might also recall that Max tried so very hard to guard me when it hit, even growling at the Spouse Thingy to keep away from me.) reared its ugly head again right after Christmas and I've been battling it since. It's not as bad as it was the first time (which led me to the epiphany of why some people just want to die, which helps with some empathy there) and certainly not super horrible, but I am so many levels of uncomfortable and nauseated that it's keeping me from doing things I want to do.

Getting on a bike yesterday, even inside, seemed like a bad idea and one I would regret. So I watched reruns of Doctor Who, leading up to the New Year's special, and did a whole lot of nothing.

I thought I was on the upswing last night and would be on that bike today (inside, because I am delicate and it is raining) but Thumper's Raging Intestines (I still think that should be a rage rock band name) decided I would not sleep anywhere near what one might call well, and that the first hour of my day after finally getting up would be spent nauseated as hell.

Still...I don't feel nearly as sick as I did July 2012, when I missed the Avon breast cancer walk because I was laying in a tight ball in bed, feeling sorry for anyone who'd ever felt anywhere near that bad. This time I can remain upright (though I've taken a few naps because that's how I deal with not feeling well) and I have an appetite, but no energy to prepare food so I've been eating a lot of crap.

No energy to work, either. Or to start on clearing things from Max's bedroom, because it's about to become a Dammit Machine room, and y'all know how much he would have liked that. [insert evil laughter]

My view will be the same, absent cat barf...
Only one Dammit Machine this time. I'm taking it over for my bike, and hanging a couple of my lesser used bikes on the wall, because why the hell not? I'm still so glad we turned that into a space for Max when we did, and it will be a royal pain in the asterisk to get the sofa and love seat out of there again, but I'm not one for major shrines and it's already time to change it.

Also...the sofa stinks. The love seat stinks. Max dribbled a lot in the last few months through no fault of his own, so we're just getting rid of them. They can be cleaned, sure, but...hopefully we can donate them or give them away.

So. Maybe tomorrow I can ride. I want to say I feel better right now, but I thought the same thing about this time yesterday and it went to chit. So.

I did get up this morning to donuts on the counter and dinner already cooking in the Crock Pot, which meant I didn't have to go to the store today, and the Spouse Thingy didn't even know I'd had such a crap night.

Fingers crossed that next week is better. Spouse Thingy gets his 2nd COVID vaccine, so even if I feel better, he might not...not even going to make real plans.