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April 2, 2022: In Pain

It’s hard for me to think when I’m in pain. My energy level also drops considerably. This is where I am at right now. Earlier, I felt pain and pressure behind my right eyeball. Now my brain is saying that something is amiss in the vicinity of where I had my tooth pulled.

I have, up until now, been a very lucky person. I have had no major health issues and have had a high pain threshold. I am hoping that I have not become unlucky.

I have never had dental pain like I am now experiencing. I would not be able to get any work done if I tried.

Last night I could not sleep because of the pain. This is a first.

I now understand why people become obsessed about pain, and with their friends they can talk about little else.


Jim's greenhouse is ready


The other day I ran into an old friend, Mariann, who was sitting in her car, waiting for a friend to do her post office errands for her. Since the last time I saw her, Mariann had put on considerable weight. I asked her how she was doing, and she began to run her list by me. I finally threw my hands up in the air, and walking away, said “too much information!”

Now I realize that I could easily become like Mariann. How dreadful.

I did manage to continue with my day today even though I just wanted to crawl back into bed. I sorted the books that had been left in Wasilla, and I straightened up the library room at the Meeting House. I then did a distribution run. My friend Sarah came by and picked up two boxes of children’s books. And Bill came by with the day’s recycling center haul. It was a good one. We’ll now have enough good fiction on hand for the next few weeks.

I got home and Pete suggested that we go for a horseback ride. He rode Raudi and I rode Hrimmi. I took Tyra for a ride solo after dinner. I have to say that it was a good idea, to spend the winter walking rather than riding the mares. They got exercise but their backs were given a break. They were all nicely forward, and it seemed they were glad to get out.

I also went to check out Jim’s place. It was surreal – he had a lot of stuff; however, his outside environs were amazingly tidy. The thought that kept coming back to mind was that he didn’t expect to die. We all expected him to die, alone, and at his place, but not so soon, and he undoubtedly presumed that he would soon be getting his seedlings going, in preparation for another big gardening year.

The place had a good feel to it. I could easily live there. I do hope that whoever ends up with the place is into gardening. Jim would like that.

Next: 91. 4/3/22: Onward and Upward: A Conversation with Tyra

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