Today the edema subsided enough that with the heel pulled up I could reach down and wiggle 'em on. Kristen's pressure-point massage, painful as all get out during ministration, worked its magic on my hip & with the addition of several spritzings of 7-Dragons analgesic (dit da jow),
I was able to walk to the top of a hill -- 400 feet one way! -- where there's signal.
I'm having a bad attack of shingles in my legs with peripheral nueropathy in my feet and a burning sensation on my thighs when the cloth of my pants touch, but it's too cold to take them off.
Morning coffee
The cutting board was a wedding gift to Mom from German cousins. The salt & pepper blend to the left of my cup is for the hard-boiled egg. Note back-scratcher behind cup. Zach Hively's latest "slim volume," titled *Owl Poems,* is in the lower left.
Bobcat? Poodle?
Crap! Shingles?
ReplyDeleteYeah. Though there's no way to know, I attribute it to the Morena vaccine for covid. Soon after I got the first of the two prescribed shots, I had a series of attacks of Bell's Palsey that went on for about a month or so. A few months later I had a bout of shingles that was the worst my (new, young) physician had ever seen. This time has included numbness in my legs, feet and fingers of my right hand. Intermittent stabs of pain along with the boiling-water-on-the-skin sensation keep the monotony at bay.
DeleteI didn't know it could ever get too cold for you to take your pants off!
ReplyDeleteGreg,
DeleteIt's true, Imma cold-wuss. I prefer sunshine but must have sufficient warmth. Clothes have always seemed superfluous, but when temperatures drop, I don protective gear.
Still, I try for distinction, as with my hat with the donut decal. That, combined with my overalls and my Cole Haan shoes make for an interesting presentation. Since I avoid venturing among the hoi polloi as much as possible, I feel it only decent to provide fair-warning.
I've been pleased to discover that most are, in general, kind to the insane.
But I admit, once inside where it's warm, the urge to disrobe is strong. But I'm restrained by my upbringing which, as long as I'm treated with civility, requires that I reciprocate. 😉
If only that cutting board could talk. The stories it may tell!
ReplyDeleteMom loved to cook. My parents married in New York and traveled throughout Europe. As a former double-agent, Dad was at risk for many years even after the war ended so they moved every few months. She died in '93 and it has been with me since. I too like to cook and it continues to serve its purpose admirally.
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