winter dutch iris
In the bed sleeping much of the time, miserable when awake with a flu of some sort. In sleep, I dream of writing you, all the time, stream of consciousness writing, abstract stuff I don't even know what it's saying, an endless flow of words that run together in paragraphs and pages. Sometimes I feel like it's the best writing I've ever done, then other times it's the worst I've ever done. I tell myself putting words down does not equal writing. Next time I fall asleep, it's back, head full of writing as hard and fast as I can go at it. In the dream the writing is expressed in red and yellow sparks. Every day I want to put down my bed and write you online instead of in my head. I don't know what you're missing, because I have no idea what any of it was about.
The last time I had the flu was the last time I had a flu shot. I told the doctor this time I hesitated to get a flu shot, because last time I had a flu shot it gave me the flu. He told me it doesn't work like that. Then how'd I get the worst flu I ever had? I already had it when I got the shot, was his answer. This time I didn't already have it because it was 2 months at least after the shot. The other time was right away after, and I really did feel like it gave me the flu. It's been maybe 10 years without flu shots and I never had it once until I let the doctor convince me I need one. How is it, then, over the last 20 or more years, or more than that, as I've only had 2 flu shots and those were the only 2 winters I've had it in a very long time.
Also, by this time in my life, I've learned to doubt much of what I think, suppose or believe. Much of the time, I can be certain if I think something is the case, it's not. Also, I've not been washing my hands to keep the risk down, because the screen filter at the spring box end of the water line to the house is almost plugged up with just enough water coming through the line to keep it from freezing. When the ice groundcover is gone and the temperature is reasonable, I'll get out there and fix it. I fill half gallon jugs with water and use that water. I'm inclined to suspect not washing hands so much is the problem. Though staying indoors all the time they don't get visibly dirty, so when I get home from the grocery store handling the grocery cart handle, everything I touch, the invisible flu cooties perhaps are on my hands, then I stick a finger in mouth and it's on. Maybe. Seems like a flu shot was supposed to prevent that. Had to pay for the shot and the $140 remedy, and still feel like shit.
I've been in the bed so much the last days that when I go to stand up, I feel like Jr, stiff all over. Takes awhile to get going. When I feel what he felt, it brings him to mind. A few days ago I saw him for a split second plain as day sitting on the side of his bed drinking a strawberry ensure.
I like sleeping all the time. Only an illness makes it possible, but it is good to get a good long rest. Yesterday, Julie at the Dr's office mentioned that it's good to be alive. I wasn't so sure, given the alternative. But I concurred, as I come to understand it's me here and it's me in gloryland. Living with me is the issue, not so much where. One place might be better than the other, but it's still me involved. I'm not as difficult to live with as I used to be.
Something in the illness has changed. Until today I've felt puny with a mind unable to do anything like write or focus or read. Today I continue to feel puny, but the writing is back and reading is back. It's looking like the Tamiflu pills are working, though the body doesn't entire feel it yet. Strangely, when this hit and all I could do was lie down and sleep, I was glad. Felt like I needed to lie down for several days. Needed a rest. Don't know what from, unless it's the every day making myself write something here. I didn't want to miss a day. I felt relief that I let myself miss a day. It was an inner weariness that I sometimes wonder if it needed rest and took up with a flu to get it. I can't analyze where cooties come from, but when it gets down to feeling, that's what I feel is behind it. At the same time, writing you is what I enjoy most in the course of a day.