Try as I might, I cannot think deeply this morning. My ability to think philosophically seems to be inoperable at this moment. Actually, that is not quite true—I purposely avoid introspective exploration at this instant because I sense it would trigger the failure of an emotional dam. Torrential emotions are capable of sparking fear, hatred, hopelessness, rage, and worse. They can drown restraint, enabling the free exercise of monstrous behaviors without regard to the damage, destruction, or even death they may cause. So, I do not want to explore the moral corruption of MAGA. I do not want to consider whether humanity has a snowball’s change in hell of overcoming its own overwhelming sickness. I do not want to risk discovering that human life has no more meaning than a grain of sand has intellect. When I read some of what I have written in the past, I wonder whether I was a different person when I wrote those pieces? Of course I was. Life experiences change us. Joy brings about change. But so does misery. Acceptance and denial compete for dominance. Control and powerlessness expose strength and weakness, while hiding the emptiness of both. Stream of consciousness drivel with purpose? I should have stayed in bed.
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Phaedra (the cat) has been allowed back into the “owner’s suite” for a while now, thanks mostly to the generous affection bestowed on her by her Cat-Mama and the fragile tolerance extended to her by her reluctant Cat-Daddy. Lately, though, she has begun testing the limits of tolerance—by rattling the wooden window blinds and meowing loudly around 3:30 a.m. She is a nocturnal creature, as cats are wont to be, whose ability to sleep during the day exceeds even mine. Unlike me, though, she cannot seem to exercise that ability all through the night. After the sun goes down, she must pace, pounce, race, poke, and otherwise expend massive amounts of dark energy. I mention all of this by way of explanation as to why I began, yet again, writing a blog post at 4:40 a.m.
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The radiation of my brain yesterday did not bother me. The bother was the pain I experienced while in my lower back and my gut on the hard, metal table. During the short (10-15 minutes?) procedure, the pain in my back increased quickly—exponentially—to the point that I wondered whether I could tolerate it any longer. Even though I took a hydrocodone/ acetaminophen tablet a hour before the procedure (having experienced that pain before), the experience was excruciatingly painful by the time the procedure was completed and I was finally allowed to sit up. The good news, though, is I have only nine more sessions to go. 🙁 The hair loss I expect to experience probably will begin sometime around the last treatment (in two weeks), but it “probably” will grow back within six months or so.
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Mi novia’s daughter glimpsed a tiny glint in the rocky soil behind our house a couple of days ago. When she investigated, she discovered it was a dark brown stone combined with an extensive network of quartz crystals. She dug up the stone and spent hours cleaning it and then coating the gleaming specimen with tung oil. It is now in our possession; a beautiful piece of evidence of the geological diversity and attractiveness of this little piece of land on which we live.
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I shall return to bed in a moment. It’s not yet 5:40 a.m. I could get a little more sleep before the day begins in earnest. I ache in earnest for sleep.
