July 2023, not 2024 #2

good coffee and the popping of clogs

This is my attempt at giving you some more updates.

I am two days into no nausea and it feels so very wonderful. This being my second day. At time of writing this paragraph, Joseph and I are in bed and I just had one of the best cups of coffee I’ve ever had. Joseph is commenting on how fast I type (“like the magnified sound of an ant walking”) and the sun is peeking over the hills. Did you know the sound of key presses is a deliberate consideration in the whole user experience of a laptop? They probably didn’t ask a nine year old to describe it.

A few things that make coffee wonderful, for me: a) medium-ish roast, b) very strong, “like tar” was how a friend once described my coffee, c) in a French Press or cafetière, d) with half and half (which may or may not contribute to my demise from colon cancer — depends on who you ask), and e) brown sugar (similar to half and half, this saccharine indulgence could cause me to pop my clogs a little early.)

The nausea and tiredness knocked me flat. It was hard for me to stand up without looking for the next place to lay down. I took the following: Zofran, Compazine, ginger SAP, 400mg CBD. Altogether, it just about stopped me vomiting.

When I’m flat out, I have a thought pattern that pops up that I have labelled anxiety. I can recognize it and have choice in how much it occupies my brain. And so it’s not true anxiety, but I don’t know how else to describe it.

When I’m really nauseated, my brain goes to a place of this isn’t worth it. It would be easier if I wasn’t here. Everyone could get on with their lives and I wouldn’t be disappointing everyone by not being available. Interesting that my availability and my story about how disappointed others are is what, in those moments, gives my life value or worth. I think this falls very much into the conditioning I have experienced as a woman. Hands up if you know what I’m talking about.

Annnyway.

Our flower garden is exploding with magenta and cream gladioli, a variety of sunflowers (I love watching the bees on the heads), and liatris.

Happy pollinators.

And in the rotted out stump of a maple tree that came down over the winter, I planted some red hot pokers and they are shooting up some heads.

We’re drinking Big Hibiscus Tea because a friend introduced us and now Joseph and I are hooked. It’s the taste of summer and health and wildflowers. We’ve also been listening to an unbalanced amount of Bon Jovi. Something stirs satisfied in my sides when Aubrey is blaring out We've gotta hold on to what we've got, It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not, We've got each other and that's a lot for love, We'll give it a shot. We’ve also enjoyed the Pile on the Stairs parody.

We spent three nights car camping — a perfect balance between glamping and backpack camping. The milky way was splashed across the sky, the nights were cold, we were toasty, and we breakfasted on scrambled eggs and sautéed tomatoes.

Matt, relaxed. I got the picture to prove it.

If I had a uterus, it would be a-flutter.

A friend and I are planning to climb Mt. St. Helen’s, August 29th. This is her trip and I am along for the climb, for moral support and because I invited myself. This will be seven days into my next break from Lonsurf so I am expecting to be feeling quite perky. That being said, I need to keep my fitness level up. So on that note, I’m going to get going and lift some weights and maybe take a bike ride with the Zephyr pup.

Peek-a-boo.