The Curses of Getting Older

BB's current therapy: "Unmeaningless" by Doug Powell.

 

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One of the curses of getting older is the overnight trip to the toilet. Perhaps you understand.

 

You're lying there, blissfully resting in the arms of Morpheus, when suddenly your eyes pop open and you've gotta get UP and stumble through the dark to the toilet. You know the route well.

 

Maybe as you go you're nodding off, or trying to at least. You're working to recapture some fleeting image from a dream, or to perhaps just trying to engage your brain as little as possible in order to ease the return to sleep. God help you if, at this point, you find yourself singing "Kokomo." It'll be stuck in your head, and you might as well put on some coffee and fetch the paper.

 

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My policy is to avoid looking at the clock while making these trips. I don't even want to start doing the math, figuring out how much time is left until the alarm goes off.

 

(The alarm goes "off"... wow, we have a strange way of saying some things..)

 

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So I got up, did my business, and on the way back told myself not to look at the clock.

 

I didn't need to, as it was ringing. Ah shit. I thought I'd be going back to sleep.

 

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I've had stomach distress since Sunday. I saw the doc this morning, and he put me on Nexium in case it's just acid reflux. I'm not on board with that particular diagnosis. But I also got bloodwork to test for a nasty bacterium, and I get a sonogram at 9am Friday to look for gallstones. Personally, I'm guessing gallstones on this.

 

And coincidentally, tomorrow at 8:15 is when I have my appointment with the neurologist to check this calf for nerve issues.

 

I basically just need to check this ol' body into a repair shop.

 

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Someone gave me a nice Christmas card with a small snowman attached. I'd planned to eat it, but as it turns out it's actually a candle.

 

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Be good.