Quotidian Update 531.xi.23

I hope this marathon is almost over and nothing happens to prevent me from getting home today. Yesterday’s race segment included projectile vomiting followed in the evening with a rash of hives across my back. I’m almost at one with this shit, almost, but not quite. By now I imagine my tomatoes are dead (???) unless it really rained (???) there is a big box of dog food and a small box of coffee on my front porch. “Hello Monte Vista! She’s NOT HOME!!!!”

No more Tramadol for me.

All I can do is laugh because that is both marginally insane and 100% stress defusing.

Yesterday, Lois, her husband, and went to the pretty town of Larkspur for lunch. I wasn’t at all hungry. My earlier experiences of projectile vomiting dampened my appetite (poetic use of understatement there, don’t you think?) but I wanted to hang out with them. We had a really lovely time. On the way home, of course, I started feeling sick, but trooper that I am, I held it in until I got to a bathroom.

No more about that. As my high school English teacher said years and years ago about a story I had written about a very strange experience I had had in Chicago which could be but isn’t the subject for another post someday. “It’s OK, but really, Martha, no one has done nausea well since Sartre.” She also made some comment about my being “…fascinated by the seamy side of life.” That wasn’t true; I’d just found myself there. My plane ticket said, “Chicago,” but that’s a big city.

Hanging out like I did yesterday is the kind of thing the pandemic made extremely difficult (not that it’s over but…). Last year Lois and Michael came to the San Luis Valley and camped in their motorhome a couple of times. Once during the shit-show of 2020 I met them for lunch in Del Norte. and the other time they came by to see how well the new deck worked. They inspected it and approved it for ordinary use and possibly square dancing by small people, people such as those starring in the Wizard of Oz or, even better, Leprechauns and other Fairy Folk.

Well, I guess it’s about time to give poor Bear her travel drugs and go very very very carefully to the car…

25 thoughts on “Quotidian Update 531.xi.23

  1. I was wondering whether I should warn you about that Tramadol, Martha. My doctor gave it to me when I one of my frozen shoulders. I had exactly the same reaction as you. Hope the tomatoes and Tracy are alive when you get home.

  2. The good life is so overrated. The seamy side has some grit…which sounds gross, given what you are going through. Hoping you make it home OK.

    • πŸ™‚ To me the good life is snow in winter, a short summer without bugs, friendly dogs, good friends, an idea for a blog post that’s actually interesting, a painting in progress, and no need to go to the supermarket.

  3. “It’s OK, but really, Martha, no one has done nausea well since Sartre.”

    I would add to the list Angela’s Ashes by Frank McCourt—- Very description vomit — even the chunks!

    Hope you are feeling better and that you did get home. I am worried about the beans!

  4. I think I like reading your blogs from current to past. I try and guess what happened before and can truly see why seeing the valley sign was heartwarming. I’ve had issues with Tramadol. I didn’t when I first took them for my neck injury. My sensitivity to certain medicines have worsened over time. Projectile vomiting is just sad. I’m so sorry. I hope today is going great! Beans, tomatoes, Bear, Teddy,…all of you! β€οΈπŸ’›πŸ’š

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