One at a time...

I have been battling waves of nausea since early this morning.  Again and again and again.  Plus, I've been having a chill.  I think that I should only have one dysautonomia symptom at a time.  Doesn't that seem fair to you?

Pukey.
Zofran.
Pukey.
Zofran.
Pukey.
Zofran.  Ginger Ale. Saltines.

Pukey.
Shivering.
Pukey.
Icy.
Pukey.
Blue feet.

I built a fire and have been roasting myself for hours and hours and hours to no avail.  Three blankets, one electric blanket, one heating pad, wool socks, gloves, hat, scarves, and sweater.

SIGH.

I did, however, savor the sunset through my window.

I still cannot believe that I have stained glass window in my house.  When the winter sun sets, the colors in the glass glows and cast such a beautiful light across the deacon's bench and wall.

For a brief while, I was distracted from my pukey and freezing self.

Poor Amos.  He just wants to drape himself across my person for comfort.  I'm in dire need of comfort, but I cannot bear for him to be atop me at the moment.

Pukey.

Freezing.

And pukey still.

Becky and I ran errand this morning together, thanks to Sprint.  Despite the nausea, I was able to fetch three prescriptions at two pharmacies and a few groceries.  Sadly, I forgot to get more Ginger Ale.

Given this day, I'm going to need more than the two cans I have left.  It's a good thing that Firewood Man is bringing over another load of wood on the morrow.  SIGH.