Not Sickness, Not Illness, But Something

Fragments of complex, semi-conscious dreams populate my memory of last night in bed, suggesting I did get some sleep. In spite of those muddy, incomplete recollections, I do not feel like I slept at all. I was conscious when sunlight began creeping into the room this morning, robbing me of darkness. Normally, I would have been up and awake long before then, but I was not. Instead, I spent what seemed like hours tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position that would allow me to sleep. Instead, my movements simply reminded me of my distress. Still, though I’ve been up for more than half an hour, I don’t know the source of my physical disquiet. It’s a bit like a mild headache accompanied by a slight ache in the rest of my body, paired with a more-than-slightly upset stomach. Though rare, this sensation of unpleasant illness is not new; I’ve felt it before, though I’d say it has been years. I do not recall how long it lasted; I hope it does not last long, because I will be good for nothing until it passes. And until it passes, I won’t be able to sleep, which I very much want to do. I suspect this unpleasant condition will last a day or so; it just feels like more than a brief annoyance. Whenever I have not even the slightest interest in breakfast, I know something is amiss.

I tried to discover just how much (or little) I slept by performing a query of my SleepNumber app on my phone. Impossible, as the blue tooth connection was broken with the installation of a new modem; and I haven’t been able to establish a new connection for some reason. Damn gadgetry! When connectivity becomes invisible and seamless, technology will have become a truly helpful technology; until then, it will be an aggravating intruder into livest that do not really need it and never did. At that moment of invisible seamlessness, though, it will have embedded itself in our lives as if it were a vital  organ, required for survival.

Today might have been ideal for me to look for a place to dispose of a now-useless 55-inch television, a cooked DVD player, and seven fried telephones. But not unless I start to feel dramatically better. And it would have been a good day to take a book and a magazine to the care facility where my wife is convalescing; maybe I will force myself to do that sometime later. She should not have to suffer my illness…or whatever it is.

Bright blue skies out the window usually boost my spirits and infuse me with energy; not this morning. The invitation to get outdoors and enjoy the day seems more like a taunt, a derisive jab meant to call attention to my physical and mental condition.

Perhaps I will try to sleep in my recliner, listening to the Spa station through Alexa’s speaker. Try. Try.

About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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