The hunt for the Fierce Berry

My birthday is Saturday, and no I'm not going to say how old I'll be. Older than I look, younger than I feel right now, and we'll leave it at that. I don't really have plans, except that if I feel decent I'll go out for buckwheat pancakes in the morning, then assuming I don't get slapped back in the hospital I'm going with some friends to view some inaugural festivities from an ironic distance. (When you understand that I could practically do this from my front yard, it seems like much less effort.)

Of course, my kidney function is down today, at least by the markers I can monitor. Depending on my bloodwork, they may want me back on I.V. fluids. I don't think that my fear of being readmitted to the hospital on Friday is irrational, given my recent track record.

On the up side--and yes, there is an upside--Mom got the Saturn new tires in honor of my birthday. I got to thinking how much easier my life is having that car, which has made it much more convenient to get between here and the hospital. I could do it without the car, but with much more hassle. As self-gifts, I chose a leather jacket, plus I paid off my last credit card balance, which I had run up a little while waiting for the disability claim to process. (That happened during my last hospital stay. See? That's something good.)

Now, as soon as I come up with a little bit of energy, I'll actually finish my new template. I know I've been talking about it for a while now, but it hasn't happened yet. Apparently healing from this latest setback could take a couple of months. I should pray to the powers that control this sort of thing to send me something to write about--something more interesting than my current state of health.

Again on the up side, I did manage to eat a little bit tonight. Mom stopped by with vegetable soup and salads from the take out place near her office. The soup was nice and tasty, and though it's not as good as soup that I make myself, I didn't have to try to open a can. This is a good thing. You see, I'm too weak to open a damned can with a manual can-opener. I also failed in my quest to open the large bottle of FIERCE BERRY Gatorade. Of course, Mom tried, too, while she was here. She couldn't get it open, either. I don't feel quite as bad about it after that.

However, I wish somebody would tell the nice people who make Gatorade that atheletes aren't the only ones who drink it. Sick people are told to partake of sport drinks to help keep themselves adequately hydrated and supplied with a few calories here and there. I'd like mine with the easy-open lid, then.

I suspect that's the non fierce variety.

before - after