the unfuckening, day ten

in

Holding pattern continues as general and pervasive exhaustion settles in for the long haul upon my person and brings with it the unwelcome plus one of flaring BPD made more so because I'm too exhausted to keep myself in check but happily happy pills are holding their own and keeping the worst of flare-up proclivities at a corporeal minimum, mental being another story, though the day away has helped reestablish my self-policing abilities and, while I’ve little interest in work or anything similar my favorite part of the hospital's chiptune Minuet in G hold music is when it cuts out for half a second and sounds like there's some epic profanity being bleeped out.

the unfuckening, day five

in

Amused by hospital's chiptune hold music yet mortified that I can't name said tune though I know it's one of those annoying warhorse earworms from the last 500 years that's on every calming baby album but I can't place it. Probably Mozart since it grates on my nerves.

The unfuckening of my grandfather's medical situation continues (97-year-old more fit than most 60-70 year olds but nonetheless possessed of 97-year-old internal organs), numbers moving in right direction, from stomach to heart, bit by bit – hospitals being hell for (recovering, ha) control freaks: beholden to the schedule of another and the schedules of the lives and deaths of floors upon floors of (an)others.

But hey: taking the opportunity of daily hospital visits to commence a re-read of Montaigne's Essays. Fortunately, after 10 years of hospital visits, I learned that hospital visits were what a Kindle was made for; it only took me nine years and many funerals to buy one (better late than never) Also: audiobook of Gary Rogowski's HANDMADE for the drive back and forth.

this week

in

Situation with my hospitalized grandfather remains wrapped in uncertainty so I’m putting this up here as notice (if only for myself) to not expect much in the way of updates (beyond Attendance Cards) to this space, especially as my preferred processing method for all of the swirling highs and lows of the present is via the therapeutic anchoring effects of illegible handwritten journal. All, of course, subject to change.

sitrep/20230915

in

Grandfather in the hospital, haven't slept, no clue if newsletter or any writing will get done this weekend. Trips back and forth. No clue how things will work out, so taking everything day by day. Missed today’s Attendance Card, first since last October. Not bad. Might be here tomorrow, might not, no clue. Here's a hospital fascination immortalized in photographic form.

a large yellow barrel that says INEDIBLE in the middle of the hospital waiting room