Good things...

It is ever so much easier doing laundry if you are not the one carrying the laundry down two flights of stairs or going up and down the basement steps to change the loads from one machine to another or to hang them up on the drying lines.  It is also ever so much easier to cook if you have a resident sous chef and dish washer.  And it is ever so much easier to rest when you have someone willing to fetch drinks or books or games or snacks or even take your beloved, anxious fluff ball outside to tend to his business.  Life is basically better all around when your dear friend is staying with you.

We abandoned the television show we had been streaming, after thinking about how the main character was getting worse, not better.  For me, such is stressful.  I need some sort of hope, some sort of growth, something redeeming whenever I watch dark or complex stories.  We switched to the British show "Starlings," which is this delightful ensemble about life with extended family living together.  It is gentle and real and funny in an honest way.  I just delighted in it the first time round and am enjoying it more being able to share it with Becky.

We also have been chowing down on tastiness.  Today, we had the pulled pork tacos and Becky also tried the Simple Split Pea Soup.  I might possibly have finished off the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups that we bought, along with her favorite candy: Peppermint Patties (ICK!).  She also chose a popcorn that I actually found enjoyable.  The latter was good for me because I was in dire need of a sodium fest.  Between the Gatorade, popcorn, and slices of rolled mozzarella and prosciutto I felted as topped off as eating the cobb salad at Panera.

Twice, I struggled with feeling ill, other than the par-for-the-course early morning nausea.  It was the second episode in the day that I found the words to describe how I feel when my blood pressure is dropping because of something in my intestines pressing on the vagus nerve:  It is like the wrongness of when you are on a swing and go too high so that when you swing back down your stomach drops out.  Only I am siting still when that sort of feeling washes over me, dragging me into fear and a bit of despair.

As far as the wee-hours-of-the-morning nausea, this was the second day of vomiting, which is not usual.  Mostly, I battle endless waves of overwhelming nausea that oft takes two doses of Zofran to settle.  I dislike actually vomiting and my throat is sore from doing so.  Because of the freedom and mercy and acceptance Becky shows me, I have left the quilt in the bathroom, spread out on the floor, rather than hiding it away so as to pretend I do not spend hours lying in there.

I also felt a bit wretched when I did get up, so after having Amos tend to his need, I crawled into the GREEN chair, turned on the sleep mate that is downstairs, asked Becky to hand me my blinders, and rested my head upon some fresh icepacks.  About an hour and a half later, I felt more like joining the rest of the world.

One way that Becky showed me kindness today was to watch my all time favorite Doctor Who episode, one of my top three favorite television episodes of any show:  "Vincent and The Doctor."  As I have written before, it is an exquisite look at mental illness with a setting that honors the work of Vincent Van Gogh as much as it uses a snippet of his story as a basis for the plot.  My favorite all time television quote is at the end, when the Doctor is comforting Amy, who is bereft to discover that their efforts to help Vincent did not keep him from taking his life.  She felt as if they failed him:


The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. Good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things or make them unimportant.  We certainly added to his pile of good things.


To me, I wish more folk understood that you do not have to try and "fix" someone who is struggling or battling illness ... that, to me, the great mercy you can show is simply to add to that person's pile of good things in ways both small and great.

Becky is certainly doing that whilst she is here.  Not the least of which is helping me re-set the visual rest of the first floor before heading up to bed.  All tasks, really, that I have had throughout her visit have been made easier by the offering of a second pair of hands.  And, of course, letting me finish off those peanut butter cups rather than sharing the last of them with her!