Saturday, November 17, 2018

Feeling Poorly

Did you now that Henry Ford was funny? He defined a bore as “a fellow who opens his mouth and puts his feats in it.” I found out because I was researching the origin of another famous definition that I took to heart long ago. It was Bert Leston Taylor who wrote, in The So-Called Human Race,that a bore is a person “who, when asked how (s)he is, tells you.”
One of the worst things about being a senior is the amount of time my peers talk about their health; hence my delight in the Taylor definition. 
From April of 2016, this blog was health focused as I struggled to understand what happened to me and why. My health was my focus because it was my first mental (ill) heath diagnosis and the symptoms were overwhelming. 
Still, I fit the definition of a bore and so I try to minimize my health talk here. However, that said, yesterday was nasty due to a particularly nasty migraine headache. Doing anything was torture; Sheba, with her numerous needs, made me wish I were dog-less. 
Today it endures. I will pass a very low-key day; I try to glide through the day rather than walking because with walking, every step is like a shock to my body.
It’s sunny. That’s uplifting. And I only have dog walks on today’s to-do list.

No comments: