February 28, 2003

• We got pictures today from Greyfox‘s sister in Pennsylvania, of the deep snow there.  Ours is pathetic, all slushy with muddy patches showing through.  I’m getting oh-so-sick of listening to the sound of dripping water.  Tens of millions of people in the Eastern U.S. are distressed over this Blizzard of ’03, and a few thousand Alaskans are seriously inconvenienced by the warm weather we’ve been having.  As my double-Libran old fart says, it all balances out.

  
  

  He had planned to go to Talkeetna today, open his stand and do a little business.  It is early in the season and he usually only works weekends this time of year, but the weather forecast was for precipitation all weekend, so he thought he’d beat it to the punch and get at least one workday this week.  This morning, the precip showed up earlier than predicted, so he’s staying home.

  
  

  He and Doug have gone on a water run, which allowed me to slip in here at the computer for a while.  I would have driven Doug to the spring, and probably would have taken the camera along and taken a batch of ugly pics of muddy ground, but for several factors.  First and foremost, I suppose, is this beastly fibro flareup I’m having.  Also, since my car, Streak Subaru, is loaded up with the stand merchandise, the water run must be done in Greyfox’s shiny new red used car with the cracked axle, bad tires, misaligned suspension, and that other thing (which escapes me) that Greyfox said was the “worst” mechanical malfunction of all.  I’m glad he didn’t go to work today and leave me to herd that thing down the highway.

  
  

  This won’t come as any news to my fellow fibromites who read it, but I’m having trouble getting enough oxygen today.  Shortness of breath is one of the more serious, potentially damaging or life-threatening things on the long symptom list for fibro.  For years, I (and my physicians) thought that my asthma, the pain, stiffness and incoordination, the vision problems, etc., were separate things.  Knowing better really does help, even though it doesn’t make the symptoms any better.    For me, taking the mystery out, being able to stop wondering what the hell is going on and why, makes it all a lot easier to live with.

  
  

  Even so, I’m not in a very good mood today.  The mood may or may not be independent of the biochemical effects of the disease.  I’ve got enough on my mind without trying to sort EVERYLITTLETHING out.  Sometimes flareups are easier to take without letting them get me down.  This time, I’m restless.  It’s cabin fever season.  I’d love to be out doing things, or over there in front of the VCR punching and kicking with the TaeBo video.  If I was in tip-top shape, I might even go to Anchorage tomorrow for the start of the Iditarod, but probably wouldn’t, anyway, because of the crowds, the air pollution and all.  On each trip to Anchorage, about the time I get past Eagle River, my eyes and throat start burning and I start sneezing.  Cities suck, in general.

  
  

  My current mood sucks, in general.  Don’t mind me.  I’m outta here.  I’ll try to cheer up a bit before I come back.

  
  

  

  • 3:53 pm
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