No More Fighting

I have learned an important lesson.

I’ve been fighting my condition; I’ve been fighting to get better but that strategy doesn’t work. I have to relax and give in to it. I have to go with the flow and really limit how much I do and how long I do things. I feel like I should not be away from home for more than three hours.

Yesterday, my one thing to do was to have lunch with Cathy. She and I went for a wander to Granville Island (G.I.) to lunch at the G.I. Hotel. We lucked out: We got a table on their back balcony with a view of the G.I. park and the harbor and we were alone. It doesn’t get better than that.

But then on the way home I exploded. I was very suddenly very sick in the bushes. I made such a mess of myself I had to buy some clean clothes. I’m pondering today whom to inform, the restaurant or the health authorities.

On the other hand: I’m praising Baby Jesus that I eat meat because I went to Oyama Sausage while on G.I. and yesterday and they had some saucisson sec with fennel with a note on it: “Delicious.” So I bought some and let me tell you, brothers and sisters, I tasted the Devine.  So today I’m going back for more.

Slowly the smoke is dissipating. It’s predicted to rain on Sunday and that we’ll have clear air again on Monday.

I’ll visit Bruce today but he’s going to his sister’s house for the weekend. I’ll resume my visits next week until he’s released on Thursday.  

It’s Friday again; it’s the day when I worry about hearing bad news from the Arts Club. I almost wrote to Rachel this morning to ask about their decision but I keep thinking to do so is risky and that I am better to just wait.

Today I lunch with Dwight and then I have all weekend to myself and no plans for several days afterward.