Mercy

I’m sitting here typing with one eye shut. The lack of depth perception does not help my already mediocre typing skills. It shouldn’t make a difference, but it seems to.

I am fighting with migraines, or some sort of horrible head pain. And it’s making my life hell. Ice packs and Advil have become my closest companions. I lay submerged up to my eyeballs in hot baths, anything to ease the pain that stabs behind my right eye. I’ve been in and out of the ER–the scariest place I’ve ever been. And I’m not going back. The system has me by the … well, it’s got me cornered. Too much cash for MediCal, not enough to pay the doctors.

So, I did something I rarely ever do unless absolutely bottomed out. I put a call out to nearly everyone I know for ideas, health insurance info, anything or anyone that might offer assistance. It’s a really sucky feeling asking for help. A very vulnerable feeling. But some people have really risen to the occasion. People I never thought would. Big surprise on me.

Meanwhile, I am at the mercy of anyone who can read–my favorite thing to do. Sigh.  And I’ve got an appt. with a great acupuncturist. Always good.

If I’m not here a lot, or my shop looks dusty for a while, or there’s no new crochets or naughty cards at Dahlila, I apologize. I’m anxious to get back to work, but for right now there’s a pillow with my name on it–and coffee! I’ve got a doctor’s permission to drink more coffee. So, that’s one good thing.

wish me luck, d.

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Too Many Choices; Three Good Men

I am reading my new camera instructions. It’s amazing how quickly my eyes glaze over, and how little info. I’m retaining. It makes me wonder how I got through college.

This camera has options, plural. Do-dads galore. I rather prefer fewer choices. Too many, too much and I just walk away. For example, the supermarket toothpaste aisle. I rarely remember what I bought before. Was it extra super-duper white w/fizzy bubble technology? Or All-day fighting action whitening w/baking soda time release. . . . and I know I’m not alone. Just look down that aisle, or pick another: toilet paper–soft, bulky, smooth, powerhouse, fragrant, floral, colorful; or deodorant: womanly, manly, unisex, extra dry, extra fruity, spicy, flowery, w/baby powder, w/anti-persperant. . .

the store is a zombie zone. Poor working sods, 8 o’clock at night, staring blankly at detergent brands, salad dressing. Family size? Store brand? Coupon sale? It’s amazing we make it out alive.

But back to the camera. I’m learning. Right now I treat it like a precious time bomb–my technological gizmo freeze-up: I’m afraid if I press the wrong button it will blow, fizzle, die. The Help Dept. will say, “You pressed THAT button? Oh, god. . . you should never do that–or switch this, or press those two buttons in unison.”

I will get past it, I think. When all else fails, when the battery fizzles, the screen flashes, the whatever counts down to zero, I simply unplug it, go to coffee, take a walk, eat chocolate, ignore it. And sometimes it works.

***

Yarn and such: I added cherry wood buttons made by my friend and neighbor, H. H. has made me two beautiful wood bowls, a small jewelry box and now some buttons. He loves working with wood and I love what he makes. Thank you, H.

Two man scarves get these buttons; the others get vintage ones. The scarves look clean, urban, simple. No fringe or flapping ends. And I’ve found several good men to model them. I’m very excited.

Oh, and Lost is back on tomorrow night. Life is pretty good.

d♥

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