May 28, 2006

• I’ve been worse.

  I have been better, too.  I guess what I mean is I’m not doing too
  badly, but I’m not going to lie and say everything is okay.

  I’ve found one thing to appreciate about the fire.  Something in
  the fumes cleared up my sinuses and I’ve had more olfactory acuity,
  less anosmia, for the last few days than I’ve had in years.  It’s
  a mixed blessing, but so are most of the blessings in this life. 
  Every time I go outside for a while, as soon as I step back in the
  door, I start sneezing.

  My body is finally recovering from the post-exertional malaise. 
  It tickles me to have that jargony short phrase, “post-exertional
  malaise,” for the old familar phenomenon of days of brainfog, fumbling,
  stumbling, interrupted sleep, muscle spasms, and general discomfort
  following any physical activity.  I learned it recently, through
  an email group associated with A Hummingbird’s Guide to M.E.

  I reached some sort of personal milestone when I admitted to myself
  that I might not ever get all the post-fire cleanup done.  I had
  been looking at the scorched and peeling wallcovering behind the
  bathroom counter, thinking about what it would take to fix that. 
  Realizing I wasn’t up to that, I went back and sat down for a
  while. 

  Later on, I started noticing all the soot and residue from smoke, on
  dishes in the cupboards, on boxes and jars in the pantry, on curtains
  and my hanging Navajo rug.  I cleaned it off the computer monitor
  and the PS2 monitor, and off the leaves of some of my
  houseplants.  The next project, when I’ve recovered from that
  activity, is to clean the rest of the plants.

  I’ll take it a bit at a time, try to prioritize — living things,
  residue in dangerous places, and places where the grime impairs
  function first, and then the cosmetic stuff.  I picked up the
  heat-shattered glass from the bathroom counter and floor, but I haven’t
  yet gone into the back room to assess damage there.  Against the
  other side of that wall the fire was climbing when Doug extinguished
  it, is a shelf holding my art collection, a number of unframed works
  that I have been given by the artists, traded for readings, etc. 
  Frankly, if there’s damage, I don’t want to know, and if there isn’t,
  why expend the energy to find out?

  Expending energy — right…  I was tired before I started this.  It’s time again to go rest.

  …almost forgot:  Someone asked what “hot as hell” means to
  Alaskans.  Well, the low fifties Fahrenheit is t-shirt weather,
  and when it’s in the seventies we start complaining about the
  heat.  It has been in the eighties for about five days now. 
  Of course, nobody here has AC.  We have a big box fan, and it has
  been aimed out the bathroom window, blowing fumes away, ever since the
  fire.  Cold sugarless lemonade from the fridge is my favorite
  cooler-offer.  I’m going to get a tall glassful on my way back to
  the couch.

  

  • 5:47 pm
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