Tuesday, December 14
I felt like I could sleep. It was an illusion. I slept late, instead and sacrificed the morning walk.
My legs are very limp today, and the right shoulder hurts in such a way that at a certain angle it droops. Maybe it too is limp; suddenly gives way. Typing is slightly further from impossible. The right arm is relaxed and quiet, has been all day. Only yesterday did physical stress cause some tremor, and only briefly.
Wednesday, December 15
Alexander lesson first up at noon. Lots of work releasing tension for the first hour, then a half hour or so learning (re-learning) how to stand and sit. Shaky in the afternoon. A good garage walk come evening. Count it all up, it should equal a fairly healthy day regards symptoms, but I felt a bit desperate all day. Too much chocolate and coffee… yep, could be that. Time for a break.
Thursday, December 16
Very little sleep last night, but some marvelous naps this morning. Leonardo stopped by for my #3 jab. We walked 8 garage laps come evening, all in fairly good form until lap 7 when I suddenly tired out. I’m feeling “normal” today, that there is only the thinnest of membranes between me and symptom-free health. I’ll be very glad if that is accurate. Muscles are still limp, but less so. Right arm is mostly loose and quiet.
I am, I must admit, on the fringe edges of stir crazy.
Friday, December 17
I was up until 02:30 listening to the first read through of my play, Soup, taking place at normal hours in Tampa. It’s odd. The play was first drafted in 2014 and received readings, public and private in a very different format, but the current play took shape here, in Orvieto, so I’d never heard this script spoken aloud. The reading was very informative despite my difficulties understanding much of what is said on Zoom.
I started on revisions this afternoon. That both relieved and encouraged my incipient restlessness. Then on the phone with my Pennsylvania lawyer I learned that a document I need to sign must be notarized. That means a trip to the consulate in Firenze, which I would love to do, but is realistically impossible right now. I took another small step towards wanderlust.
Saturday, December 18
I slept remarkably well last night. Perhaps the caffeine fast begun a few days ago is paying off. I got up feeling downright spritely, but was plodding by the time my shoes were on, and the garage walk was extremely difficult (as was yesterday evening’s). At least typing has been fairly good, even occasionally normal. I’ve been concentrating on keeping the pericardium well-charged and that is feeling to be a strong practice. Though just now, being jolted out of a nap by a restless left leg, opening the pericardium gave rise to a terrible fear; I have no idea why or of what.
Looking back I can see clearly how I’ve been functioning on override most of my life, and maybe that fear has been in the background for decades, only now that I’m more conscious of heart energy is it rising to the surface. Anyway, that was a one-time phenomenon, so far.
We did nine circuits of the garage this evening, and not too shabbily either, then at nine and a half I suddenly wore out and had to stop.
Something that happens all the time that I find so curious. Let’s say I’m sitting on the edge of the bed and need to rise, but can’t make it all the way to my feet. If someone else is there all I need to do is touch their hand and I rise effortlessly from a sitting position. I don’t receive muscular help at all, just the touch. Even more interesting, if no one else is there and I touch the handle of the walker – just touch, no pressure at all – the same thing happens. I’ve paid really close attention to this, and no pressure needs to be involved. It seems to be a brain thing.
Sunday, December 19
I slept a straight eight last night, then after the daily leg massage, another forty-five minutes in bed of delicious sleep, then a very awkward three garage laps followed by another heavenly nap. The legs are very limp, movement is slow, dexterity is rough, but I feel fantastic in spite of that. Pins and needles are intense, but only in my hands. Typing is remarkably smooth.
I worked on Soup, trying to meld two versions of the first act. Mind bending.
Monday, December 20
Sleep was spotty, mostly because of a tight and achey flank. After lots of stretching and walking, it finally loosened up and let me sleep.
The day was spent working on my play, Soup. The mental effort involved intensified the pins and needles which also spread to head and face. I am uncharacteristically deliberately choosing not to rush to the finish. There’s time, and I intend to take it. But trying to keep track of who is on stage, who just left to do what, and remembering what expository info has been revealed and how – while trying to preserve favorite moments in both versions – is intense!
Did ten garage laps this evening, which leaves me at about three-quarters of where I was a month or so ago when walking regressed suddenly to post-hospital levels. I am convinced that as impossible as it may sometimes seem, I will walk Orvieto again in spring weather, or such is my earnest prayer.
HAPPY AND MERRY EVERYTHING!