I can't live like this any longer.  I have been in dread of otherworldly events, imagining the most frightful scenes played at high speed.  Most of the scenes involve being in the hospital, with sheets, screens, room dividers, hospital personnel wielding strange implements, making threatening pronouncements, then disappearing behind machinery that beeps, bleats, blasts; counting the seconds you have left to live.  My mother, in a very bad mood, representing authority, cruises around between curtains, waiting.  At times I cry out like a baby, wanting all of them to disappear, but they don't.  I am left wondering what to do.  The scene changes....

Now it's frogs in a pond, all croaking at different tempos, locations, pitches.  I can't control them.  I can only see their throats, quivering for the next croak.  True, there were batteries of tests like that, huge machines that I went inside of, and listened to them sonorously hammering out their demanding challenges.  I suppose they end up having an effect on me.  The upshot is that I have a clot of blood in my heart, part of which broke away from my strenuous activity and went to my brain, there to interfere with my thinking, speech, balance, coordination, but most importantly, my eyesight, now I can't even drive my vehicle. 

Is this what I've been trying to tell you for several days now?  I know I am not making sense of things, but the challenge is the strange otherworldly way it's all affecting me.  I keep expecting things to return to normal, but it has not yet.  I am living in a semi-plastic reality.  Even the political situation, which I was deeply involved in, does not merit a comment from me.  I still watch it, hear it, but I am not a participant anymore.  Listening to frogs has become more important, or at least more relevant.  

I have learned to write on this blog, manage my emails (with help from John), cook and do the dishes, keep surfaces clean.  I have managed to manage the phone!  I am haunted by folks who have died, can't wait to get well again so I don't have to see them again.  The ones I want to see I don't see, or I am saddened anew that they have departed.  If spring would come, something would change, wouldn't it?  There has been snow on the ground for 6 months now.  The feeling that I am forgetting something important nags at me.  Duh!  Soon, there will be one more test of my big blob lodged in my heart.  Then they will decide what to do with me.  I wish this was over.  So on I go, trying to get along as best I can.