Wednesday, July 26, 2017

PPMS, bipolar2, PTSD and Pneumonia - The Four Horsemen of the summer Apocalypse

Biblically referred to in Revelations, at the end of John's prophecy (John of Patmos, at 6:1-8. ) These hell horses bring  famine, war, pestilence and death, to earth and yes, that same zany gang that started WW2 has zip to do with it. The Deity has washed his/her's/their's possible hands of the planet and gone off to this part of galaxy




No it was not these four horses... and I can still feel the clip clop in my head, but maybe's that's another thing.




No for a 60 year old such as your host, all that I needed was:


Meet Chuck the horse.  Now if you've been here before, you know that a series of maladies has slowed my retirement enjoyment over the past eight years, and how I've been slowed in my working/writing (with some good help).  The thing is, its like another spoonful of green lima means, has been tossed on top of your favorite food and just when you barely swallow that set, more lima means are dumped.  And you know that, that wonderful feeling of nearing he dessert has been crushed.  Lima beans are in my pudding.

See when you've got MS, you're always sleepy through the morning, drowsy in the PM, and stumbling back into bed, unsure at what points of the day you missed because you slept through them and then can't fall asleep.  And you forgot to eat again.

So take that and add pneumonia (the second time in my life [ I'm better] and suddenly emergency rooms and after a lot questions, EKGs, blood samples.  I was hooked up to an I-V for hours as the truly nice staff did all they could, though I wished the TV would have worked.  Home at 4:30 AM.  Collapse in our brand new super duper bed. And blessed accomplishment I actually fell asleep for nearly a hour before falling out of our new bed.  You need to have mountain shoes to climb in and a prepared parachute to get down safe.  The bed is one of those raise head/lift feet things, old couple bed.  It took me a few nights of stubbed toes past the newly metal end piece.  In all our years, Jackie and have had the same mattress, nor headboard, nor footboard.  We were always going to do that, that is, but cash and stuff (lots of stuff) got in our way.

To relieve the sound of snoring that disturbs my bride's dreams of shopping at Kohl's, I used a number of pillows to prop my head and get into the oddest position necessary to relax and hope that Jackie moved  closer me, Mr. Warmth (now that Rickles' is gone, the title is up for grabs) and I find I'm driven to the very edge of the bed, below me a block of deep black nothingness disguised as a rug.  But my terror at being so far not shoved me screaming to the floor.

So I sit here, coughing and droopy - the latter being the norm. One of the horses went home, though did take his sashaying horse.  "See you on the deathbed, pal!" he said chortling as he turned to fire and disappeared.

"Don't worry," PTSD horse said. "We're still here.  Blow your nose, but don't put the tissue on the bed cover!  Think of your house! What, are you, someone who can........"

"He's asleep, PT." said the MS horse.  "Enough for tonight.  See, Pneumonia, oh....He's gone.  More cholera, I guess, someplace else.  Call it a night, or by the way there's a veterans hospital just down the road."

PT bowed his head.  "In all fairness, sir, a lot of my brother's ponies have been there, terrifying the families by making TV soldiers even worse than he ever had it. Good riders, sir."

And with that the MS horse in its ghostly form relaxed, and began to fade.  

"and another day ends," he whispered.  He went to  his favorite dream, the one driving a Cadillac, top off in the farm grass, his hair flying behind. This is living, he knew and he hoped he'd get to do  the part where the world is but hay, water (for all needs), apples, and that nice palomino named....Zika. Wait, Chuck's on duty tomorrow. Great. Can't wait for those stories. Good ole Chuck. U.P. Chuck.


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