Small things...

Small things.  Small things add up when you are me.

Today, I re-filled the soap dispenser by the kitchen sink, replaced the roll of paper towels beneath the sink, took out the recycling, and replaced the batteries in the remote, smoke detectors, scale, blood pressure monitor, and the pulse oximeter.  I also tried to replace the batteries in the door bell, but the batteries were not the problem.  Just 18 days after the warranty ran out, the door bell apparently died.  Now, I have just over $10 of batteries I most likely will not use.  And a broken door bell.  SIGH.

All those small things add up.  They add up in steps and moving and using my arms and all the things that make me exhausted.  It's the small things of living that are not small to one like me.  To those struggling with dysautonomia, amongst other things.  Heck, just getting out of bed in the morning, having been supine for such along time, is a huge battle.  Even if I do not faint, I have to fight near fainting and nausea and dizziness and weakness as I battle plummeting blood pressure and skyrocketing heart rate.

It is hard to simply get out of bed in the morning.
It is hard to get out of bed in the night to fetch fresh ice packs.
It is hard to get up whenever I've not been up.

Some coughing.  Some sneezing.  A slighting worse sore throat.  Chills.  Aches.  Nausea.  But those latter are part of my quotidian existence.  Still, I would definitely classify my current state of wretchedness as a second cold.

You know, if this is a fallen world, what function do you think germs were originally supposed to fulfill?  How could they have been good before?

My supply of lozenges is running low.  Milk, too.  And cucumbers.  If I am going to continue drinking water every day, I absolutely need another cucumber to mask the blah of water.  Maybe by Friday I will be able to garner enough verve to fetch the needful at the store.