apparently not listening

so the rest is not coming, the unpacking is slow, and the stumble in the soft sand let the high pop-up slam down on the left chest wall (better than the face, aye?) and now, after the emergency room ruled out a heart/lung crisis, costochondritis wherein the cartlidge between the ribs is inflammed, and even more specifically, tietze syndrome, where swelling spreads the pain, is a constant visitor (cuz it only hurts when i breathe)... from the er to the softball field (to pitch seven full innings and win) proved the er was right, but the pain, maria, but the pain... can i stop breathing for a while?... and moving?...

more than bloat

there is a numbness and a swelling in places, the hands, the right arm, the bruised areas, but also the muscles... bloat, yes, and overworked, but more (age?), not enough sleep for complete recovery... a few days off for sleep (and unpack, but that's another story) would be wise... listen to the body talk, body talk...

return to bloat

of course the horizon may be farther away that it appears, or than we want it to be, alas and all, as the old habits change ever so slowly (but change they do, even ever so slowly) and the body talks so rarely, so i reeport on it for it, sort of, from the skewed perspective of being blind to it much of the time... the body gets older, gets better, slides back, gets better, but yet, it is far from where it was even when it was just ok and far from where it wants to be (and may never be there again) and so compromise comes hard, but must come... anybody care? (i mean besides my body)...

semi-bloat

i can sometimes, in these wobegon days of yore, reach a point of semi-bloat if i remember to stop consuming the sensory staff of life for a week or so, which is what happened last week... and then, the weekend, and old habits revisted (along with the old roommates) and the bloat inches back... still, the turning may be on the horizon...