>I like rain. I could even say I love rain. But even I am starting to think this is over the top. Has the sun shone in June? One or two days, tops, if I remember correctly. We are dank and water-logged in the Northeast. People are showing signs of winter SAD. It is gray, gray, gray every single day. Oh, I’m a poet. Cute. *giggle*

On the plus side, I have done just about every thing that I wanted to do in reorganizing and decluttering my space. I have some papers to sort through, but that’s it. Finally. It really feels good to have accomplished so much. I couldn’t have done it without the help of my friends, but it is done. Yay, me.

I was glancing through a blog roll on another site and one of them was about how chronic pain can be a blessing rather than a tragedy. I think I agree. A lot of us go through life on auto-pilot, not stopping to notice or consider. Life changing illness forces you to do both. You have to think of new ways to do the things you’ve always taken for granted. You become acutely aware of all the steps it takes to accomplish something you’ve done without thinking before becoming ill. Cooking is my big one, but there are lots of others. Getting going in the morning. Get out of bed, not always easy. Make the bed. Take the shower, which involves getting the towel, robe and slippers handy, doing the actual shower, drying off, tidying up, brushing teeth–with steps of its own–getting your clothing, getting dressed. Each one involves energy that you may not have, or pain that you cannot avoid. In a class I took once, we had to write down the steps to making a peanut butter sandwich for someone who had never done it. It starts with finding the bread. Think about it. There are so many steps–open the jar, find a knife, open the bread package, dip the knive and scoop up some peanut butter, and on and on. Every step uses up a bit of your precious energy, or causes some pain, or both.

Having to be aware on a second-by-second basis really makes you see your life in an entirely new way. It has made me much more appreciative of the things I can do, of the friends who help me, of the assistance provided to me by the elder services. It has made me grateful for my tv, for my pc, for my phone. I am not alone when I can reach out through the internet or a phone call. I am entertained without the major effort of leaving the house. A lot to be thankful for. A lot to consider. It’s a good thing over all, as most things that seem disastrous at first can turn out to be. What does everyone else think?

>I have to go see about which Medicare plan will work for me. There’s always something. Sign up for this, fill out that, choose this or that. The older or sicker you are, the more they want from you. Does that make sense? I think not. Brain fog makes decisions harder, thinking take longer, understanding virtually impossible on some days, and yet they want you to decide, think, understand more all the time. They ought to make you decide these things when you’re 25 or 30, when you’re brain is actually working. Assuming you haven’t already contracted one of the brain fog illnesses. I just want to be left alone, but life doesn’t work that way. Good thing I have a sense of humor.