Provoked, irritated

Yesterday was day seven with no pain medication. Today is eight. I have a dear niece who posts on Facebook, Do not post your personal problems on Facebook, as they require personal solutions. But this isn’t Facebook, so I’ll mention it again, and hope it will be resolved tomorrow.

In case I am overlooking something, I looked up the appeals process again. It can take up to six months. I understand the first appeal, three months ago. I was new; maybe I could take something else in the insurer’s formulary. But I couldn’t, so Belbuca passed, in about five days. I don’t understand what has changed.

The entire weekend has been rain, but the weather very warm. Tomorrow, bright sunshine is forecast, but it will be cold again. No cards tomorrow, so it’s breakfast with Lynn. 

I went back to sewing charity quilt blocks for my sister.  I went to her studio for some reason a while ago, and she said, “You know, I only have three of your tops left to quilt.” That was a ‘shut my mouth (or yours)’ moment. I put together over five hundred tops, before I left off, donated the sewing machines. So, I’ve started again.

The window of the room I sew in overlooks my street. This picture is so typical of the people here. The man across the street is a car mechanic. The fellow in the black car needs a repair to be able to go to work tomorrow. What you probably cannot make out is the tarp rigged over the hood of the black car, so the two men can work on it in the pouring rain.

I re-read The Little Prince today. I try not to read books I know I have read in the time before the accident. I’m afraid of how they may make me feel. But, I could remember The Little Prince was a special sort of book, and I enjoyed having it unfold. There is no allegory here for me; but I found I remembered the Prince’s journey just as it was about to happen.

I’ve spent the day in my special chair that helps support my back. I’m beyond the point of relief by support of a chair, or by sending acetaminophen down in a steady stream. I am very sad that I see my primary care physician tomorrow afternoon, and she will find my blood pressure elevated, from the pain, and tell me it distresses her. And, it does.

A couple of hours ago I heard the cookerer making up a batch of biscuits in the stainless steel mixing bowl. I had no idea what would go with them, and come supper time it was chicken soup. With mushrooms, peas and corn. And an ice cube. It was good!