❧
Thursday is the day I was born. Thor's Day. I have read that Thor was a Celtic god who was bad about tossing thunderbolts around. Same as some Hindu gods. What a thunderbolt represents by metaphor or parable is not exactly clear to me. I named the pony my father bought me to plow with Thunderbolt. I read a lot of adventure stories as a kid. Maybe I read about Thor and decided to call the pony that name. He wasn't much like a thunderbolt, however, he had asthma and didn't have much endurance.
My father was a horse trader of a sort. I guess he got that from his father who was a blacksmith and there were lots of animals around all the time. I guess my father knew something about blacksmithing simply because he was around it much of his early life, but he was the baby of the family, and his father was nearly sixty when my father was born. I doubt if his father had the strength it takes to do blacksmith work.
Daddy (I called him Daddy) talked to me a lot about getting attached to animals as pets. He didn't think it was a good idea. He didn't allow pets in the house. Ever. It was like a mortal sin. His reasoning was simple. Don't get so attached to an animal that you refuse a profitable price for it if it comes up for sale. That may have a lot to do with me not keeping pets.
Apparently I don't keep anything around that I might get emotionally attached to. That's not accepted as a very attraction trait nor attitude toward life by lots and lots of people. They all think I oughta know better, but what they don't understand is that I do know better. I know better, but that doesn't get the response I'm fishing for by acting like I don't know better. Life just doesn't always have to make sense to me. It can be a little or even a lot crazy, and that's cool, man.
Last night was really rough. I couldn't find a position to sleep in that I didn't wake up in excruciating pain. It's not that I'm not used to excruciating pain, it's just irritating when it interferes with my sleep cycles. I've written previously about chronic fatigue, and how when it's combined with hunger it can lead to explorations of the dreamtime that never get righted again.
The chronic fatigue I'm experiencing from having my sleep cycles messed about with is probably different in the sense that it's not combined with hunger. Perhaps a bit because I'm not eating meat. I probably ought to be eating meat to get the protein I need to keep my muscles. I mean keep my muscles at all. I didn't get much sleep because the pain was not cooperating, but tossing and turning at least activated some muscle.
I finally gave it up and decided to call my rheumatologist to start taking the medicine again. He didn't answer or offer an opportunity to leave a message. The only option was to call Duke Hospital Emergency which essentially means "Don't Call." This has everything to do with the VA Hospital service. They're there to help you die sooner than later.
Since I couldn't get hold of the doctor I decided to take 10 mg of prednisone to help with the pain. After only a couple of hours it's been a big help. I read up a little more about prednisone, and it obviously ain't a good thing to abuse, but when I feel like my body is going into shock from the pain and I'm depressed and thinking suicide, then bending the rules a little won't matter much one way or the other.
❦
I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
