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The good news and the bad news

(I’ll let you decide which is which.)

Although I have not yet been officially declared brain dead, I’m sure there’s panel being convened somewhere to discuss the issue.

However, it appears that physically I still survive.


I’ve thought for a long time now that getting old was a pretty cool thing. I’ve enjoyed the anonymity and the not giving a flying eff aspect of it. Not having to answer to anybody. Not being inspected for my sexual value as I walk down the street. Dressing as I please. Not much caring what others think. Hearing that the world is going to end in the Next! Screaming! Crisis! and knowing it won’t. Meeting a likable man and not immediately falling into that absurd “will we or won’t we” social dance.

Now I’m seeing the other aspect of getting old and cool is not the word for it — although cold chills apply.


My appetite finally returned yesterday, although the pleasure of fine dining (aka heating up a can of Campbell’s Hearty Bean and Ham) is diminished by spasmodic coughing fits between bites. Or worse, during them.

On the other hand, I’m now back at my high school weight, which has been a casual goal for a while. It was only a few pounds to lose, but they were persistent suckers.

This isn’t the way I’d have chosen to lose them, though.


I’m so hopelessly behind in reading, let alone answering, my email that I’ve given up trying. I can only apologize for not responding — and contemplate why a virtual (and therefore non-existant) mailbox littered with bits and bytes fills me with such dread.

I did ease back into cruising the ‘Net yesterday. Couldn’t handle the news (gods forbid, are we still supposed to feel sorry for those out-of-paycheck TSA gropers and thieves, who even with their supposed hardships make more than their less pervy peers?).

But I may have some thrilling dog-rescue videos for you later.


In the meantime, I’m nerving myself up actually to getting out of bed this morning and perhaps even bathing my sweaty self and washing my sweaty bedclothes. We’ll see how far I progress in these monumental leaps toward health and normal life.

If all goes well, I may even dress and go to the post office to check my mail.

Don’t count on anything so wildly, boldly dramatic as a half-mile trek to the PO, though. Small steps, small steps …


Meanwhile, I’m cheered and carried along by your good wishes.


  1. Comrade X
    Comrade X January 16, 2019 10:44 am

    +1 on the dog-rescue videos for you later.

    Progress is one step at a time. Just think how great that tea will taste once you can have at it again.

    What ever it was review how you think you got it and try very very hard not to again please!

  2. Patrick Fowler
    Patrick Fowler January 16, 2019 11:10 am

    Hi Claire , glad to see you are healing up. Getting older does have it’s challenges though doesn’t it ? One thing I did do after my illness , the one that left me deaf and out of balance…was to continue my 1/2 mile walks with the dog…usually 2 or 3 per day…these affirmed that I didn’t have ” a foot in the grave ” after all. Also kept on with my boatyard graphics work , soooo keep on blogging , yours is one of the 1st that I started following and I have really enjoyed it along with your ” regular ” followers , thanks again , Patrick

  3. Owl
    Owl January 16, 2019 11:57 am

    “Now I’m seeing the other aspect of getting old and cool is not the word for it”

    As the saying goes, “Gettin’ old ain’t for sissies.”

    I’m glad that bug is losing it’s grip on you.

  4. coloradohermit
    coloradohermit January 16, 2019 1:15 pm

    I’m so glad to hear that you’re on the road to recovery! Easy does it.

  5. Mike
    Mike January 16, 2019 2:10 pm

    As I’ve known for a while now, getting old isn’t for the faint of heart. Luck to you Claire, and I hope your feeling better soon.

  6. Joel
    Joel January 16, 2019 3:49 pm

    Yeah, hope you changed your mind about the post office thing. Way too early for that.

  7. Claire
    Claire January 16, 2019 4:01 pm

    I actually did go to the PO — and there I found a package from blog reader full helpful medicinals. So I’m glad I made the death-defying trek. 😉

    But that took the last of my energy. I’ve been useless ever since, and now I’m about to tuck into some homemade soup Neighbor J brought over.

    Poor J got a bad diagnosis on her 11-year-old Rottweiler a couple of weeks after Ava received hers. A much worse diagnosis, actually. Furrydoc is going to come out Friday to put him down. His grave is dug, his coffin made, and three strong men including Julie’s son and The Wandering Monk are coming to carry him.

    So I’ll be venturing out of the house at least one more time this week to say goodbye to that good old dog and be with J for a while once I’m past infecting her. She’s Finnish and therefore stoical (“sisu”), but I can imagine how much this hurts.

  8. Shel
    Shel January 16, 2019 4:20 pm

    In his autobiography, Benjamin Franklin recounted he had a similar experience when younger, perhaps even as a teenager. He said that he was almost sorry he recovered, for he knew he had all that difficult work to do all over again.

  9. Claire
    Claire January 16, 2019 5:22 pm

    Ben Franklin? Really?

    I also nearly suffocated or choked to death multiple times with that horrendous disease. Oh, the hours and weeks of whooping, vomiting, not being able to catch a real breath for what seemed like eternity. Turning blue while my mom tried to cope and my dad panicked and made things even worse by screaming irrational orders no one could possibly obey. I always swore I’d rather die than than go through anything like that again. The gradual realization that a childhood illness + aging lungs makes it all too possible that may I may die in similar circumstances (albeit without the screaming from the sidelines, and even though I’m still figuring it’s a long time off) is truly terrifying. I can see what Franklin might have been thinking.

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