The Worst Part

The worst part of this "thing" that I have is the weakness.  It always surprises me when I feel just fine sitting in my chair, that when I get up, it takes 4 or 5 tries to get to my feet and then it takes several steps, leaning heavily on my cane before I can walk upright.

Today I made pancakes.  It was difficult to get a plate off the cupboard, and by the time I put pancakes on the plate and made two trips to the kitchen table (a distance of about 4 or 5 steps) to serve the pancakes and get butter and syrup, I was panting and sweating and had to sit down.

If there is a plus, my heart was not pounding as it has in the past.

I keep thinking I should feel better, since my numbers are falling, but they are still 1,000+ too high and it hasn't been that long, considering that I started feeling symptoms many months ago.  

The weakness means I have little incentive to do anything, which means I had nothing better to do today than watch the interrogation of FBI agent Peter Strzok.  If there is any better proof of the fact that the ugliest things to watch are the making of sausage and politics, this is it.  

But I won't articulate an opinion about the yelling and screaming attacks on this man.

I am gradually learning that expressing my political beliefs, even for "intelligent discussion" are verboten, having just (apparently) lost a burgeoning friendship over doing such, following a previous such interaction.  It frustrates me that so few people seem to care what is going on in this country, even when it concerns babies.  My last Swap Bot journal was compiled over the month of June, when we first learned of the kidnapping of the children, and I had two entries that were, I fear, very emotional.  The only comment from the recipient was that she does not follow the news because it upsets her.

How are we going to do anything in his country if we don't care what is going on because it is "upsetting."  How does that make us responsible citizens?

But I'll try to follow the rules and avoid politics.  Until I can't stand it any longer.  I don't know.  Maybe that will be this afternoon.  :)

The other frustrating thing about this "thing" is having little interest in doing anything.  I think of visiting my mother and think about walking down the long hall to the memory unit to visit a woman who will only stand up and walk away after 15 minutes or so.

I don't even, today, have the passion to write this journal that I usually do.  

I am trying to start on a new "Random Journal" this morning, filled with things that have absolutely no political message whatsoever.

Maybe my new partner (whoever that might be) will appreciate this one more.