Saturday

This breathing thing is really annoying. It took a full 30 minutes in the pool before I could swim non-stop laps comfortably. On the up side, I was able to get there and swam an extra bit to make up for all the stops earlier. That last 30 minutes and the extra bit were fine and normal.

But, then, walking to the car - not good. Walking from the car to the restaurant and from the restaurant to the car and from the car to my condo... all bad. There's no way I could walk around the block today.

As I sit here, it's fine. GRRRRRRR The fact that I could finally swim comfortably leads me to believe that working through this might work. So while I won't attempt a walk around the block I do plan a trip the fabric store which involves a long flight of steep steps (it's on the second floor of a warehouse) and then some hall walks. We have an extra ordinarily long hallway. Probably 300 yards. My condo is smack in the middle of it. So today there will be multiple instances of walking from one end to the other.

Also I have not maxing out my albuterol. That changes today. I'm allowed 4 hits per day and I will be using all 4. Worst case I'll have primo data to present when I see Dr. Lung on the 15th.

I was going to go get some cat food for YouKnowWho but I just got a text from Amazon that the cat food they were going to deliver Tuesday will be coming today. Thanks, A. I will still be going out for fabric and maybe gas. And I have sewing to do and I never did watch that movie yesterday. So... really no time for sitting around wishing I had better lungs.

(no subject)

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I used to be a voracious reader...

I started out with Nancy Drew and Cherry Ames and the Hardy Boys and then I went on to fatter books. During my high school years, I read junk novels instead of studying. Once a year I read Gone with the Wind and then six months later, I'd read or re-read Desiree. Once I got out of school, there was no stopping me. I'd read a book a day if I wanted to.

In my late 20's, my friend Cindy noted that she'd never seen anyone who read as much as I did, avoid mysteries as studiously as I did. I guess I got my fill with Nancy. And then... in the late 80's, I had just moved to Rochester, MN and their library was not doing it for me. One morning I heard Sara Paretsky on NPR and then read one of her books, then the other two and then I went to the bookstore and studied the mystery section.

I found A is for Alibi and there was B is for and C is for and I'm thinking... now, this has promise... And it did. For many years I only read mystery novels by women. It kept me in books for a long time. Paretsky and Grafton remained my favorites and I'd scarf up their latest before the ink dried.

When I lived in Northern California, Sue Grafton came to read and talk at the Sunnyvale library one Sunday afternoon. I was so excited until I was actually in the car and on the way. Suddenly it dawned on me... at that time we were only on G... what if she turned out to be someone I didn't like? Was I willing to sacrifice the rest of the entire alphabet??? I almost turned around. But, I didn't and she wasn't.

One time, years later, I helped host a reception for her at a bookstore where I worked part time. I showed her where the bathroom was and noted the stall she used and made a plaque for it. Wonder if it's still there?

Along about P or Q, I fell out. There was a particular plot point that just pissed me off and the entire book revolved around a point of view that I vehemently disagreed with and I never read another. (Interestingly the same thing happened with Sara Paretsky's main character/book series. I'm a loyal reader but only to a point.)

But, regardless, I'm still very grateful to Sue Grafton who died the other day having written the series through Y. That she didn't get to the last book is kind of a nice touch, I think.

Getting a grip

When you live alone, hermit style, like I do, you petty much have to go without a readily available sanity check.

My Mom once told me that if I never got married, I'd never know, when I left the house, whether or not my slip was showing. Fooled her. I never wear one! But, metaphorically, she's got me.

Today is a fine example. I was so bummed about this breathing thing. I did go to the fabric shop and made it up the stairs but then had to literally stop, hold onto a table and pant my way back to normal breathing. Twice I walked up and down the hall (which is 100 yards, not 300) and back and was out of breath before I got back to my door. I get up to pee and end up sitting on the toilet gasping for breath.

What the fuck am I going to do when my brother and sister-in-law come to visit? How am I going to swim every day? Even if I wanted to go beg the doctor for help, I can't until Tuesday and today is Saturday. Spiral... down...

I sat down and watched a movie and did fine. I got up and walked the hallway and I did not. I sat again and fine. Ok.

I can sit and breath without any problem at all. I can move some and if I go slowly and not too far I can move without having to stop and pant. So it's not like I'm immobile. I know I can get to the car. And from the car back here. So I'll entertain my brother and sister in law vehicularly. If I have to stop at the edge with ever lap I swim, BFD. I'm still in the water which I love. I'm still swimming. If only 30 minutes of it is good, that's 30 fucking minutes of something I love that is good.

So no more crying in my beer. That's just stupid. I've now officially hiked my slip up and I think I'll go pee and then walk the halls one more time before I settle in for either the Crown or Good Behavior... I'll decide when I get back.