And on the 10th day, he slept

It’s Day 10.

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I fell asleep last night around 6:45 am. I woke up at 1:30. When I awoke, I had no idea at all what time it was. I seem to have reached a point in my lack of sleep that my body could no longer tolerate. I don’t remember moving. I don’t remember waking even momentarily. Interestingly, even though I got more than six hours of sleep for the first time in well over a week, I was still so groggy that I felt like I needed several hours more.

But I was up, and returning wasn’t a choice.

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I stayed in bed, doing iPhone things, until the sadness really started to kick in, about an hour later. I got up and showered. As with yesterday, I had no plans. I took a walk and bought some milk teas for my refrigerator. Not much of an adventure. On my walk, I realized with increasing discomfort, that I must’ve slept wrongly on my right arm. My elbow felt like I needed to pop it, but hurt kinda bastard-like each time I extended it. Back in my room, I took a Tramadol to hopefully alleviate the pain.

I have a prescription-amount of these because my right hip is jacked up. I’ve probably taken fewer than 10 in the couple months since I saw my doctor. Before today, I would’ve argued that they likely help, just not a discernible amount. Today, tho, without food, holy shit: It’s been almost 6 hours and I’m still groggy, woozy, and uncomfortable as fuck.

Taking one without food is not a mistake I’ll repeat.

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I remembered a couple things my dad liked today, including a couple that I would’ve thought were impossible to forget. Perhaps I overlooked them. The better end of remembering is wistful but not fully unpleasant. Each one is tainted with deep sadness, but there’s also an aspect of these memories encouraging of smiles. Even in the darkness there are joys to recall. They’re just less joyful than they once were.

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I also thought of a couple more learned-lessons I was able rearrange into relatable English. But I was walking, and, new to nightly blogging, I’m not in the habit of writing things down, so they’ve slipped my mind. They’ll come back to me, surely; I’ll make note of them then.

This may be the first time I fully understand carrying a small, paper notebook. Years ago, I tried for a while, but I actually bored myself. But, going through this, thoughts and memories come to me that I’d like to record. I have an iPhone, of course, but there’s something about making quick notes on electronic devices that doesn’t record them as fully in my brain. If I write something down, I don’t tend to forget it. Typing doesn’t work quite like that for me. Maybe I’m not alone; perhaps this is why so many people still use paper schedules and diaries.

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Today largely resembled yesterday, minus the long walk and the phone call. I still have no appetite, but I ate rice again (and quickly, at that, as the Tramadol began to kick in and my regret grew). I felt mostly numb again. I forced myself out of bed again. Then had no idea what to do again. I called work again and canceled my next shift again. I didn’t gain weight, like yesterday’s slight increase, but I didn’t lose any either. The mere maintenance was unexpected and not unwelcome. But I wish I’d’ve shrunk a bit.

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I’ve always dehydrated easily, which is one reason summer and I get along so poorly. Using my new scale this morning (afternoon), I checked its “total body water” reading and learned that mine was 44.2%. Evidently, the normal range for a normal man is about 50-65%. I drank more water.

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I don’t know what tonight will bring, and am even less sure of tomorrow. But today wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. But it wasn’t at all good, either.

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This update is as wordy as it was inessential.

It’s been 10 days.

終