Pneumonia. Then relapse of Pneumonia. Then no sleep since my restless legs medicine decided not to work at all. One simply can’t sleep when one’s legs are running marathons. Then nasty side effects from Levaquin (levofloxacin). Look them up and see for yourself what they are. Mine primarily showed up as an all over painful tendonitis, focused on the calves of my already restless legs. I could blow out an achilles tendon while futilely trying to sleep through marathons. Side effects also manifested as numbness and tingling in my fingers and toes. I scratch with someone elses fingers. The fingers of novices on my fretboards; not my familiar fingers.
Too tired to travel to Houston. The more tired I am, the further it is away. Or so it seems. Houston distance is the square of tiredness.
Rain all day today. Rain all day yesterday. When it rains, it pours. When it doesn’t rain, it threatens rain.
Tonight, I am king of the sentence fragment. This is unforgiveable. It is the Russian’s fault. Hillary’s fault. Kathy Griffin’s fault. Bullied and flummoxed by sentence fragments, i have become their victim. They have a mind of their own, you know. I am their Manchurian candidate. Forgive me Peggy.
I wish I could sleep….or at least be still. Firing neurons in my brain. No rest.
Too lazy to go to my studio and really write something. But something cried out to be written. Perhaps something is restless, too.
Typing on this phone screen. I can spell every word that needs spelling. My phone refuses to cooperate with my fingers. Do not be fooled by errors, or mistake fat-fingered typos for ignorance, nor fragments for buffoonery. Sentences Faulkner-worthy, or of Balzac/Tolstoy-esque length are my norm. Tonight, I am not normal. Nope. Not tonight.
Confusion. But God is not its author. Get thee behind me, malignant malevolence.
Let me rest. If not, then let me run free.
Take to my bed.
Though slumber has fled.
My tendons unlace.
Like frogs in the lake.
Jump wide awake.
Amphibians fear deep.
Fidget. O. Fidget.
I fear I won’t sleep.
Dream for me in your slumber. I’ll think of how I’ll dream of you when I am able. In the meantime, my thinking of you will perhaps yield more than the delirium of dreams.
Either way, I’ll see you soon.
It will be daylight soon and my legs will abandon their restlessness. By then, I’ll be driving to Houston. Driving to Houston while my legs are resting the whole way. They should just rest and ride with me. My mind gives them a mind of their own. Misery. Misery without company.
Maybe me and my legs could get on the same on-off schedule.
It couldn’t hurt.
PS: Every medication has benefits associated with risks. I have a compromised immune system due to Leukemia. I am already allergic to penicillin. Now, having had this reaction, the entire family of fluoroquinolone antibiotics are also unavailable to me. This includes Levaquin, Cipro, Avelox, and a host of others. If and when the remaining antibiotics available to me become ineffective, the risk I face will become much greater. 97% of people take Levaquin with zero side effects. We all fall somewhere in the numbers. I unfortunately fell within the 3%. Most of us would gamble on being on the right side of 97:3 odds.
The IV Levaquin they gave me in the hospital made me itch like crazy. I suspected then that the itching would not be the only side effect. The delayed onset of more serious side effects is disheartening.
On the other hand, out-of-control pneumonia can be fatal. Fatal is even more disheartening.
Aspirin and Tylenol have risks. The chemotherapy I took had major risks. The clinical trial drug, ruxolitinib, I am taking has risks, death being one of them. Death is a side effect of several medications I am taking or have taken…most likely you, too.
Getting out of bed has its own risks. Being alive is fraught with peril.