The Swimming Dream

Awoke from a dream where I was swimming. Underwater with my eyes open, I Iooked up at the water’s surface from below and thought, that’s really scummy water. It was some sort of swimming hole and crowded with people. I broke the water’s surface.

I was young, in my teens, with others also in their teens. A girl my age was watching as I broke the water. She wore a red bathing suit. Grinning at her, I said something but she turned and moved away. I was with four or five other guys but none are memorable. We were talking about naming something. I had an idea about naming something and suggested it to them. They wanted more conversation about it. I told them, let’s get over in shallow water and talk about it, because we were all treading water and talking was difficult.

I tried swimming away then but dropped into the water. I thought I’d hit the bottom but the water was deeper than expected. I let myself drop and settle until my foot hit the bottom, and then kicked off hard.

I awoke groaning. I had surgery on my ankle a month ago and am still in recovery. It was now telegraphing pain and discomfort. I believe that while I was dreaming, I moved my legs and foot in real life, and kicked out, hitting something hard with my injured appendage.

Monday’s Wandering Thoughts

I hate taking my floofs to the vet. I recognized that today. I’d put off taking Tucker for a long time, probably to his detriment.

Veterinary offices and animal hospitals harbor bad memories. Cats hit by a car and dying in a room, waiting for treatment. Feline fur friends taken in to see what’s going on to learn they have cancer. Nothing to be done. Four friends over seven years, three spread over a four-year period, nine altogether in my lifetime.

I know. Shame on me. I should be stronger. A better human for them. Accept that death, injuries, and pain are part of life.

I do understand. Doesn’t appease my feelings of loss at their demise. It’s not all ’bout me, though. It’s about what my little friends ended up enduring, even before their illness was diagnosed. Vets always validated that they’re suffering.

We took Tucker back today. Check on his thyroid. Those numbers look good now. Other numbers don’t. He has high blood pressure. He’s gained weight, which was good, but his kidney numbers are worrisome.

A prescription was given for the hyperthyroidism. Another for the high blood pressure. Nothing for kidneys – yet. Monitor them for a bit more. See if it’s a side effect of meds or situation. Meanwhile, we continue his pain meds and his thyroid meds. Twice a day, twelve hours apart.

He goes in for surgery on Wednesday. Dealing with refractory stomatitis gingivitis. All his teeth are to be removed. Well, all which remain. Many of his teeth are already gone.

All this came to mind because my wife interpreted some comments made by the vet at Tucker’s last appointment as dismissive of us as pet mates. I didn’t see it myself. I saw it as being weak on my part. A coward, really.

Now, fingers crossed that all goes well for my black and white buddy. He remains upbeat and loving.

I hope I do right by him.

Sunday’s Theme Music

Happy National Cheese Day! Yes, it’s Sunday, June 4, 2023, which, as all know in the US, is National Cheese Day. Yes, America’s founders, Washington, Adams, Franklin, and the like, loved cheese. They regularly ate cheese while working with Jefferson on the founding documents. Jefferson practically lived on cheese during those days. Whenever he got stuck, someone would say, “Get Tommy some cheddar.” One of the reasons why we have problems with the Second Amendment in the Bill of Rights was because of the Great American Cheese Shortage. They were trying to come up with the right words but ran out of cheese. Quoting T.J., he wrote in his journal, “I can’t think without my cheese. I crave colby so deeply that it plagues my dreams. Damn it all, when will we get more cheese?” Today’s conversations about gun rights may have been much different if they hadn’t run out of cheese. That’s also when the expression, “Cut the cheese”, was originated when someone passed gas.

I hope that cheesy tale didn’t curdle your spirit. Mozzarella with you, can’t stand a little weird humor? I know, calling it humor might be slicing it thin. Remember, just brieth and move on.

Yesterday went so well with the weather, we’re doing it again today. 60 F now, we have expectations to pop into the mid 80s F, a lovely summer prelude. More yardwork on the agenda. With all the late rain we had, the bushes and trees went nuts and need trimmed back.

Jimmy Eat World is in the morning mental music stream. I was taking in an eyeful of luscious full moon last night, recalling how, during cheese shortages, people looked up at the moon and saw cheese. “Oh, if only we could reach it,” they’d tell one another. “We’d have all the cheese we want.” Sometimes they built great edifices, like towers and pyramids, in an attempt to reach the cheesy moon, or climb the highest mountains. They’d come down from the mountains and people would greet them and ask, “Did you get some cheese?” But no; they usually came down empty handed, except one guy, who came back with some tablets. People were furious with him. “Tablets? We can’t eat those. We want cheese.”

Anyway, while taking in the moon, the night’s beauty took my breath away. From that, The Neurons began feeding different songs with the phrase, ‘take my breath away’, in it. There are a few, and my mind busied itself, eventually branching out to songs about breathing or with the word breath in them. Eventually, The Neurons rediscovered “Pain” by Jimmy Eat World from 2004. The song landed in the morning mental music stream and has been going ’round and around in it until now, when I free myself by offering it to others. Don’t know why, but that’s how it works.

Stay pos and carpe Sunday. Time for more coffee, don’t you think? Yes, The Neurons agree, it is. Here’s the music. Cheers

Floofroid

Floofroid(floofinition) – Animal who’s behavior or actions are a pain in the rear.

In use: “Although nominally a sweet animal, Papi’s willfulness often turned him into a real floofroid.”

Tuesday’s Wandering Thought

He was hot. She was, she said, “Freezing.”

This wasn’t new.

But her fingers were white and waxy, like bloodless white candles. Their appearance stunned him into silence. She said they ached.

He merely sweated. So it was not the same thing. For her, it was pain. For him, it was comfort.

The Heart-Attack Dream

It began with me in bed, at night. Pain was rushing through me. I couldn’t see nor hear correctly. I thought, I’m having a heart attack.

No one else seemed present. The heart attack would come and go in waves. I tried calling for help but couldn’t. I decided that I’d work through it by thinking of what I was feeling and experiencing, and then countering those things with my mind. That seemed to work, as the pain faded and the heart attack passed.

The lights came on. A large spider, I’d say two feet tall, was to my left. I acknowledged its presence and left the room.

I’d survived, I decided. Outside the bedroom, in another room, were my wife, a few friends, and a dead cousin. As I looked around, familiarization flowed in. I knew where I was. We need to go home, I announced to the rest. They talked about this, objecting, how are we to do that?

But, I judged, the weather isn’t bad, so I’m walking. It’s only a few miles and it won’t take long.

They didn’t believe that I was serious. Shrugging them off, I left. My wife and a few others joined me.

The road was a rough, one-lane, dirt and gravel road that rose, fell, and wound through sparsely populated, wooded countryside. As we went, we’d see a car coming, call out, “Car,” and then step off the road until it passed. Impatient to continue my journey, I announced that I’m running.

At that point, I realize that I had a foot injury and had been limping. I thought, I’ll have to push myself through my foot’s pain and stiffness. Behind me, the others said, “He’s not serious, he’s not going to run.” But I started running, gritting my teeth against my pain. Soon I found a stride.

The others started running behind me, but I was well ahead. Seeing the road, I’d call, “Car,” as a warning to them, and step aside until the car had passed us all, and then resume running.

I reached home. Uncles were there. They offered me wine, but it was white wine and I turned them down. Dad arrived with a girlfriend. He offered me some white wine, but I turned him down. I wanted some wine, though. I was getting ready to go somewhere.

Passing into another room, I saw Dad’s girlfriend asleep in the living room. I went into the adjacent kitchen. I found a bottle of white wine but kept looking for red wine. As I didn’t find anything except white wine I thought, maybe I will drink some.

Dad came in. While talking to me, he produced a bottle of white wine in a light green bottle in a clear plastic bag, like a gallon-storage bag, and showed it to me. It’d been opened, but had a cork put back into place. “That’s what you’re drinking?” I asked. When he said that he was, and offered me some, I answered, “Well, pour me a glass, I guess.”

As he did, his girlfriend awoke in the other room. She came in and introduced herself to me, which annoyed Dad. We talked for a few minutes. Then we talked about cars, and who was using what car.

The dream ended.

Friday’s Theme Music

“‘Cause I’d rather feel pain than nothing at all.”

It’s an old cliché. I think I’ve seen it in movies multiple times.

I was thinking all that yesterday when a character said that. Another character said, “Cliché,” and the third character said, “Three Days Grace, “Pain”, 2007.”

I gave the character help, looking the date up for him. He’s supposed to know these things, but he came up short (cliché!). I always think Three Days Grace could be a rock group from the previous century. Well, honestly, that’s when they started, so, it fits.

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