More Waiting
We're at home, waiting again. For what? Well, do you remember about four years ago when we had an old friend from Germany visit and it went super sideways to the point where the folks at the diner asked me never to bring him again? Yeah, him.
I'm not sure how we're hosting him again, but he called up and he is hitchhiking in from Penas Blancas this evening. House isn't perfectly spotless, mostly clean, clean enough. His bed is made, I've resigned myself to several days of madness and crazy which I will be documenting here.
Having the excuse of recovery from my stroke will come in handy this time. I'm still not quite myself yet. I am allowed to finally get in the pool and hot tub, but I'm still having issues with energy. In fact last week I had something of a meltdown over several days. It dawned on me that I've stopped improving. I talked to everyone I know who has had a stroke and the general consensus seems to be a) doctors lie about recovery and b) everyone is tired and loses energy rapidly.
I cried on Jim's shoulder, but he wasn't that sympathetic. Went for a long drive in the car, stopping on the cliff overlooking Playa Pan del Sucre and cried. I was strangely calmer when I got back. It is what it is. I am what I am and I'm still in only able to do so much mode, saying no to obligations left and right. I need to.
Thankfully I'll be able to pass off Stephan to Jim now. If you need me I'll be in my sewing room working on a big bastard of a California King quilt.
I'm not sure how we're hosting him again, but he called up and he is hitchhiking in from Penas Blancas this evening. House isn't perfectly spotless, mostly clean, clean enough. His bed is made, I've resigned myself to several days of madness and crazy which I will be documenting here.
Having the excuse of recovery from my stroke will come in handy this time. I'm still not quite myself yet. I am allowed to finally get in the pool and hot tub, but I'm still having issues with energy. In fact last week I had something of a meltdown over several days. It dawned on me that I've stopped improving. I talked to everyone I know who has had a stroke and the general consensus seems to be a) doctors lie about recovery and b) everyone is tired and loses energy rapidly.
I cried on Jim's shoulder, but he wasn't that sympathetic. Went for a long drive in the car, stopping on the cliff overlooking Playa Pan del Sucre and cried. I was strangely calmer when I got back. It is what it is. I am what I am and I'm still in only able to do so much mode, saying no to obligations left and right. I need to.
Thankfully I'll be able to pass off Stephan to Jim now. If you need me I'll be in my sewing room working on a big bastard of a California King quilt.
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