Hello, Future Me. Maybe.

Now that I've finished the Swedish Death Cleaning, the house sometimes feels a bit empty. There's no more clutter anywhere, even in the closets. Everything is neatly binned and organized. I have accomplished all my house cleaning goals for this year and then some. While doing so I've also posted a ton of things to the blog to publish in the future.

As I write this, the date is June 24th. This post isn't scheduled to publish until August 16th. Between now and then I have a family gathering to host, a birthday, a new work project to begin, and lots of summer art projects to do. I didn't mean to get so far ahead of myself, because it's always possible my health situation will take a sudden turn and I really won't be here anymore.

I'm not indifferent to my health situation. I'm having some blood tests this week, and seeing my doctor next month. My diabetes appears to be improving a little. My arthritis is getting worse. I have two new issues that may or may not be problems; I'm trying to decide if I want to bring them up during the exam. I'm already not happy with this doctor, and I probably should change to another before I report the new issues -- unless they get a lot worse before my appointment.

So, am I still here? Hope so. I can't see my future. I also can't live my life in dread of leaving this place. If I do, I won't enjoy the time I have left here. Fingers crossed.

Comments

Maria Zannini said…

I have more trouble picking dentists. They're all good, but when they start upselling me on mouth guards and whitening, it annoys me. Just clean my teeth and let me know if there are any problems.

It's so hard finding a doctor you like. I was lucky in my last choice. She's empathetic and a good listener. Maybe you should cast your net again and see if you can find someone better.

August 16, 2024 at 6:09 AM

Fell Off the Wagon

I did cut up that plastic dollar tote to make into something stronger, but got caught up with work and set it aside. Then last night some hand-dyed silk and pretty threads called my name, and, well . . . Felt SO good to do some handwork, except my neck began hurting about an hour into it. I tried changing the way I sit and work, but it's pretty obvious that the doc is right.

Old Loves & Such

My guy kindly bought me my favorite Chinese take out the other night, and my fortune cookie offered up an interesting story starter: This sounds sweet, right? Only the first thing I thought of was an old love coming back from the dead . . . . must be October. In other lovely news, my favorite hand-dyed thread artist, Lorraine from Colour Complements , is moving her business from Etsy to her own web site. Many of my favorite sellers on Etsy are leaving due to the whole "free shipping" coercion debacle, which has also soured me on the site. To show support I did a little shopping at Lorraine's web site and got in these: I love her threads and trims; you simply can't buy anything like them anywhere. Her work makes my specialty thread box look like a treasure chest: At night I'm spending just as hour working on quilting the scrap project runner, and I'm making slow progress: I'll keep quilting the runner while I try to decide on a design for t...

T-minus Day

This was our little Thanksgiving dinner last year, when it was just the three of us. Time keeps whittling down my favorite holiday; this year it will be just me and my guy, and we likely won't even have a turkey.* That will be a first in 35 years. I feel about Thanksgiving the way other people do about Christmas, and while it's a lot of work it's my favorite holiday. Of all the Thanksgivings I've had in the past sixty years, only three were truly terrible: one when I was a kid that I don't talk about (#1 most miserable); the time I roasted two turkeys together and hosted fifteen people whom I cooked for and served with zero help (the largest and #2 most miserable); and the one I spent in basic training (the #3 most miserable.) I have no pictures of any of those, thank heavens. In addition to doing all the cooking I'm the one who takes all the pictures, washes all the dishes and puts away all the leftovers. I suppose no one else cares because to them it...

Valerean

Search This Blog