Over the years I've come to the conclusion that I consider my blog my home. Sometimes, when I have grandiose ideas and thoughts of world domination, it's kind of like one of those Architectural Digest homes where everything is shiny and people go around with dusters making sure the footprints don't show. And occasionally, when I'm tired and wondering what the point is, it looks like my bedroom. A little shabby, with magpie bits, functional hardware and bowls of half eaten potato salad.
I should have paid a little more attention to myself. Not that it would have mattered, because I'm old and looking back on it I'd have done the same thing. I came down with stage C congestive heart failure. Not that I hadn't had signs for years, although considering my doctors, it's understandable that no one figured it out. I suspect fancy clinics are just a way to get money from people. I've had better care at public health clinics because they tell it like it is and it's about time someone sat me down and told me what was going on. Freaked me out of course, since I'm not into the idea of taking meds the rest of my life.
Thank God for Donald Gazzaniga and his uber low-salt diet. Not that I'm particularly happy about eating less than 500mg of salt a day, but between cutting back to a trace of salt and the Nexus Complex , which is sort of like the thinking man's guide to...calming down? Being Zen? The meaning of life? I dunno, it's complex and multi-layered and worth checking out if you need something that works like qi gong and don't have the time for exercise, I can lie flat on my back and talk again without taking a break.
From 224 to 132 on just a diuretic. I'm pretty proud of myself. Not that the first three weeks weren't full of spiders. They say alcohol addiction is bad. Putting down salt is just as bad.
I've been working on motivation--again. It's such a little explored facet of the arc that it's fascinating me. Doing another workshop or two before the summer lull and maybe--working on a project I've always wanted to finish. Like Dunbar says, timor mortis conturbat me. Death has a way of putting everything in perspective.