Aching, but positive…

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Yesterday, some poet friends and I drove to Romsey for a poetry collective. I read one that is really a stream of consciousness. Many read or performed humorous poetry, and others more serious or pastural poetry.

When I got home I was very dehydrated, and I began to ache. I had fallen last Friday, so bruises from that were still making themselves known. The venue yesterday was upstairs, but we had break and tea was outside. I clocked up a fair bit of walking, which is the one thing I can’t do a lot of.

So last night I went to bed very early. With lots of fluids. I still ache, but it’s going away. I’ve been struggling to open a pressure washer so I can rid my birch tree of some horrid black things that are eating it’s leaves. It’s good for me to be active when I ache.

Another hill…

I am finding that the dehydration caused by one of the medicines I take for my breathing is very difficult to cope with. I once forgot my bottle of fluids that I take around with me, and my friend had to stop at a garage to buy me some juice. My mouth had become so dry that my words were slurring. My tongue was sticking to the sides and roof of my mouth.

Once I have a drink to hand, I am fine. I can do readings of my poetry with no problem except overcoming my shyness. It means I have to make sure that I always have a drink wherever I am, whether writing, reading, or traveling. It’s not a major thing unless I forget.

Forgetting is something I do a lot. It is becoming a nuisance. It is again due my medication. I forget to post letters, get shopping, do something nice for myself, even wash my hair. I seem to wake in the morning having completely forgotten things I had planned the evening before. And notes don’t work for me. I have written myself notes and forgotten to read them.