My four days of doctor-mandated post-operative rest have ended, and I celebrated by hitting the road.

This morning, I successfully completed my first hill climb in over a month with the Friday group. It wasn’t easy, but it never was. Even my fellow hikers commented that I was breathing quietly these days.

As for my nighttime activities, I was never all that much incapacitated, but I’m definitely back fully in the swing of things. I started my evening at Sloppy Joe’s, where I reviewed the status of my remaining SOB coupons. Two were due to expire at midnight–a “buy one, get one” at Green Room and a five hundred peso voucher at Whiskey Girl. I planned to move next door to Green Room, drinking for an hour until 6 p.m. when Whiskey Girl opened for business. I finished my third Sloppy beer, said goodnight to Troy and Chris, and headed for Green Room.

I settled into a seat at my favorite table and ordered a Zero. As time went on (and beers went down), I began to reconsider my plan. Five hundred pesos of free customer drinks is a great bargain, but it requires walking to Whiskey Girl to use it. And it was happy hour until 9 p.m. at WG, which meant my beers were half-price. There was no way I would be able to drink five hundred pesos worth of beer in one night. Plus, my regulars there would be expecting me to quench their thirst for lady drinks. Doing the math, I determined that staying at Green Room doing the “buy one, get one” for the remainder of my time out was the best deal. I ordered some lumpia for the girls to share, had a GRO backrub, and enjoyed watching the girls play pool.

When it came time to pay the piper, I was surprised that my tab was a little over a thousand pesos. I had the waitress double-check the amount, and she said, “Three lady drinks, ten beers, and I was charged for five.” Wow! Turns out I’m drinking better than normal! I don’t usually count my beers, but ten in one sitting is quite a feat. I wasn’t feeling any pain, but I wasn’t falling down drunk either. That’s the advantage of a low-alcohol beer.

Back home, in bed at 8:30 and woke up at 4:00. Just like the good ol’ days. It’s nice to be back!

Things are back to normal with Swan, too. She’s joining me at the SOB tonight and bringing along a girlfriend. Should be fun!

And here is one of life’s mysteries I’ve often contemplated:

And then there is this:

Oh well, bad humor is also the normal around here. I hope you’ll come back for more!

It occurs to me that even on the most mundane of days, I am living a life of comfort and ease. Sometimes, it is worthwhile to take a moment and embrace the goodness that surrounds me. I am a lucky man, indeed.

First up was the trek to Hideaway Bar for the Wednesday feeding. I made stops at Shamboli’s Pizza and Dunkin’ Donuts along the way.

With the feeding mission accomplished, it was time to plan my next move. Initially, I considered doing the Arizona floating bar since it was practically next door. But I noted it was going to be dark soon, and for me, it is the bay views that make the floating experience worthwhile. I’ll come back when I can start earlier.

Swan joined me at Oasis when her church service was over. When we were ready to move on, I planned to introduce her to the Green Room, but alas, all the good seats were taken. So we went next door to Wet Spot instead. I had some coupons from last week’s SOB to expend and elected to use the “buy a lady drink, get a customer drink” ticket. As usual, I was buying lady drinks for my waitress Irene and my old pal Aine, who is Swan’s bestie when we visit. I got two beers for every round of lady drinks, so it was a pretty good deal for everyone.

I also had a coupon for a free blow job shooter and Irene volunteered to be the recipient.

I ordered some finger foods from the Sit-n-Bull waitress for the girls to share (I had a 15% discount coupon to use).

Everything was fine when we first got home. I sat on the couch with Swan and turned on the TV to watch some “Shameless.” And then something happened.

Not sure how this will resolve itself. I took a long walk this morning to think things over, and I’m still not clear on how to proceed. I’m definitely reminded that I despise the drama that seems to be inherent in relationships. Perhaps I’m better off alone.

UPDATE: We talked. She thought I was mad and so she was giving me “space.” I told her that doesn’t work with me and that it is better to talk it through at the time. Perhaps we have learned our lesson.

Well, when you are small-minded, everything seems large. And being alive is always a big thing. So, a post about my evening on Baloy Beach and my morning dog walk is HUGE! Alright, who am I fooling? Still, it is what it is, and that’s better than nothing, so here goes.

After some internal debate about where to do my beer time, I elected to start out at the Kokomo’s floating bar. The 2K walk to get there was pretty much the extent of my exercise for the day.

Part of the reason I chose the Kokomo floater was to try and assess whether I like it better than the new Arizona floater. For example, Arizona charges me 125 pesos for a San Miguel Zero, my preferred beer. Kokomo doesn’t serve Zero (despite my repeated requests) and charges me 120 for a San Mig Light. Arizona wins that category. As for the vibe, it is still too close to call. I thought the music was too loud yesterday at Kokomo, and the playlist wasn’t really to my liking. At the Grand Opening of Arizona, I was allowed to play the music from my Spotify app and was rewarded with a couple of free beers as a thank-you gesture. Yeah, I’m leaning toward Arizona, and after the feeding tonight at Hideaway, I’ll pop in to confirm that judgment.

Oh, and I had a special guest join me during my time aboard.

When my stomach said, “Feed me,” we headed ashore and grabbed some seats at Treasure Island.

Early to home, early to bed, early to rise.

Doctor’s orders that I take it easy through tomorrow, so I bailed on the Wednesday Walkers group hike. But I wanted to get some morning exercise, so I did an elongated dog walk.

Back home and nothing much to do to fill the hours I normally hike. I watched a couple more episodes of “Shameless” and baked a cake.

I’m not sure why, but Swan wanted me to try a new look.

I always do a quick search in an attempt to avoid duplicating post titles. A week after my move here in May 2018, I wrote a post called Living large. And today, I am Livin’ large. That’s different enough for my purposes. I also came across the post about my first-ever Hash run. That brought back some fun memories, even though the woman I was with that day wound up scamming me for a thousand bucks and then ghosted me. Ah, tuition in the school of hard knocks can be expensive. But I learned my lesson. Mostly.

No more bleeding from the nose, and my sinuses feel almost completely clear. There’s a good chance I’ll be back to post again tomorrow. Although I do have to cross the highway tonight. Life goes on.

Looking back, I’ve been relatively lucky in life when it comes to health issues. In 68 years, I’ve only once been previously confined to a hospital. That was a nightmarish three days in Korea trying to cure some virus I picked up as a tourist in the Philippines. I shared a room with three other loud folks in Korea; at least this time, I had a room to myself. It was still a miserable experience, though.

The ordeal began with a no food or drinks after midnight mandate. And then I got to witness up close and personal the quirky methods employed at what is reputed to be one of the area’s better hospitals. My doctor told me to go to the emergency room at 0830 to secure admittance. Once there, I was taken to a curtained room in the ER and set up with an intravenous tube so a variety of drugs could be fed into my body.

And then I sat in that curtained room for an hour or so before someone put me in a wheelchair and transported me to the third floor, wear my hospital room awaited.

Once I was settled into the room, a nurse came by to advise the surgery was scheduled for 12:30. Why in the hell was I directed to check in three hours in advance of the operation? I was hungry and cranky but powerless to do anything but submit to the Filipino way.

Around noon, the anesthesiologist came by the room to introduce himself and ask a few questions to ensure he administered the correct amount of knockout juice. I told him I had no allergies but that I was concerned about the COPD. He assured me he would closely monitor my blood oxygen levels throughout the procedure. He laughed and said when he found out his patient was an American, he assumed I’d be morbidly obese. It is a compliment that he did not consider me to be that fat.

At the appointed hour, I was transported by wheelchair to the operating room and then put on a bed for the procedure to be performed. I remember the inhalation mask being put over my mouth, being told to breathe deep, and then nothing else until I awoke two hours later in the recovery room. Of course, the waking up part was the critical thing.

I don’t remember this, but I was told that when I first started waking from the drug-induced slumber, I went a little crazy and started screaming to let me out of her. I heard when I climbed out of bed, I fell against the wall, and three or four attendants had to drag me back to the bed. I guess I went back to sleep after that.

So, it’s been 24 hours since the surgery, and my nostrils are still oozing blood. The ENT says this is normal, and I have an appointment with her on Tuesday to remove those plugs she inserted where the polyps used to live.

I have felt like shit since the surgery. The nostrils don’t hurt, but wiping the blood off my lip every few minutes is a pain. I couldn’t sleep last night, which only added to the misery. My head hurts, I’m lethargic (more than usual), and my brain feels fuzzy (also more than usual). Still, after a year of clogged sinuses, the road to recovery will lead me to some better places. Here’s hoping!

And thanks to you, my readers, for your words of support and encouragement.

…before this one was a good one. Here’s hoping the trend continues!

Yesterday featured a nice hike to start the day (pictures to follow) and finished with an SOB. Swan joined me for that event, and we had a good time.

Today is the day I go to the hospital. I’m not in a hurry, but I am fasting. Yeah, I can’t eat or drink until after the surgery. It will be good to get this over with—the operation, I mean. I joke, but I am feeling confident all will go well. Just want to get back to normal as soon as possible.

I decided not to write an obituary as a scheduled post. Blame it on laziness. I did find this old post, The end of the road, written on the eve of my first retirement back in 2010, that hits the highlights of my life up to then.

I plan to bring my laptop to the hospital with me so I can post some updates on my status from there. If you don’t hear from me tomorrow, it’s been nice knowing you!

Here are the photos from yesterday’s hike:

Looking forward to breathing easier on my next hike!

As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, we underwent a scheduled brownout yesterday, which meant no electricity from 8 until 5. I filled a couple of those hours with an 8K hike.

My hike ended at Sit-n-Bull, and I had an early air-conditioned lunch.

I went home and took care of some business (blogging, etc.), but by one o’clock, I faced a dilemma. Without electricity, my only means of escape was my laptop. And it was there that I came upon a post on Facebook announcing the soft opening of the Arizona floating bar at noon. I pride myself on waiting for beer o’clock (around 4 p.m.) to arrive before I begin imbibing. But faced with the prospect of sitting in the hot and uncomfortable house for three hours with nothing to do (the laptop battery was almost out of juice), I was powerless to resist the urge to escape to the breezy waters of Subic Bay.

The Arizona Resort is at the far end of Barretto (Hideaway Bar is next door) but that’s no further away than the Kokomo’s floating bar on Baloy. The power outage was also impacting Baloy, so that wasn’t an option anyway.

So, I arrived on the beach at 1:30, but it seemed like my transport options to the floater were limited.

I was the first customer of the day when I boarded and was besieged with offers for a massage, but I declined them all. I ordered up my first Zero of the day and soaked up the views and ambiance that come with rocking on the water. And this floater did have a more pronounced movement than the Kokomo’s does. Maybe the water is deeper here.

I define big spenders as guys who table several girls and purchase multiple double lady drinks (bottles at 300 pesos each) for the girls. I’m sure the girls appreciate it, and if the guys are having fun that way, rock on! I, on the other hand, was buying single lady drinks for my waitress, but she did get several during my first couple of hours on board. And then something weird happened; at least, it was something I hadn’t previously experienced. I guess I wasn’t quick enough to refill her glass (I usually buy a lady drink when I order another beer), so she picked up her empty, wiped off the bar, and walked away without a word, not even a nice to meet you or a thank you. I smiled to myself later as I watched her flit around the big spender’s tables, scoring a drink for herself when they bought another round. It’s impressive how good she is at her job. But of course, I’ll never buy her another drink, not that she cares.

I had asked my caregiver to message Dr. Jo to tell her of my upcoming surgery and to ask if she had any advice. Dr. Jo responded:

Here are our words of advice: 1. Stay away from the bars for now; there’s a virus going around, safer not to catch it. 2. Limit alcohol intake 3. Eat healthy 4. Maybe don’t hike or do anything strenuous 5. Pray, meditate, and think positive Good luck! You’ll feel better after the procedure….looking forward to it

So, in other words, I’m going to die. I ordered up another beer and watched the sun go down.

Swan had been busy taking care of business at her sister’s school in Subic, but she messaged me around 4:30 and I invited her to join me on the floater.

But the fun wasn’t over yet. I figured putting some grub in my belly was an appropriate next step, and with the sun down and darkness surrounding us, it was a good time to abandon ship. John’s place was nearby by, so off we went.

I was pleasantly surprised when Swan suggested Wet Spot for the nightcap venue. It turns out that during our previous visit, Aine had told Swan she wasn’t feeling well, and Swan wanted to deliver some medicine to her. A glass of wine for Swan, two lady drinks, and a couple of beers later, we called it a night.

I was in bed before nine again but woke up at midnight. “Here we go again” I thought, but thankfully, I was able to fall asleep a short time later and finished with seven hours on the night.

A nice group hike in Subic town this morning, and the SOB is on tap for later this evening. Might as well live as if there is no tomorrow, right? I’ll find out soon enough!

The Wednesday Walkers took a bus out to Castillejos and enjoyed a sweet 7K hike in an area I hadn’t seen before for the most part.

A 15K journey that took thirty minutes in relative comfort (compared to a Jeepney).

Back home, Swan showed me a picture of a visitor we had downstairs.

I did the Hideaway feeding featuring pizza and a roast chicken. I passed along the news that the Sunday feeding likely wouldn’t happen this week.

I went to Annex Bar for my next beer and Swan joined me there after her church service. Annex couldn’t provide the requested glass of red wine for Swan, so we took our business to Oasis. When it was time for the nightcap, Swan was down with going to Wet Spot, and she seemed to have a good time with her friend Aine. I brought home some Sit-n-Bull pecan pies for dessert.

I was in bed before nine, and lo and behold, I had the best night’s sleep I can recall.

And one of my better days getting in the steps as well.

We are having an all day brownout today. That means a hot house, a cold shower, and a low battery on my laptop. Best I get this posted while I can!

Today is that day of infamy that happened in 1941. Coincidentally, the Arizona floating bar is having its soft opening today. I’m going to take advantage of the opportunity to escape this hothouse and start drinking earlier than usual today.

I also figured out how to do a scheduled post, so I’ll need to get busy on my just-in-case obituary. More to come tomorrow!

I was up early yesterday morning to travel to San Marcelino for a doctor’s appointment with the ENT who will perform the nasal polypectomy. She reviewed the clearance documents from the cardiologist and pulmonary physician and said we were good to go forward with the surgery. She suggested I check into Baypointe Hospital on Friday; she would operate on Saturday, and if all goes well, I could be released on Monday. I responded there was no way I was staying confined to the hospital for that long and reminded her that when we first discussed the procedure, I was going to be admitted on a Sunday and released on Monday. She backed off and said the minimum period for post-op observation was twenty-four hours, and unless I was bleeding or had other difficulties, I could be released the following day. I’ve subsequently read up on the procedure (see link above), and at least in the USA, it is an outpatient operation with no hospitalization required.

So, I will be checking into Baypointe on Saturday morning and having the surgery performed that day. I expect to be set free on Sunday. I’ve been quoted a price of 150,000 pesos ($3000), which covers all expenses associated with the surgery. I’ve been suffering from blocked sinuses for a year now and have had four different doctors say that the only fix was the polypectomy. I’ve resisted getting this done, not because I’m afraid of the operation, but instead, I fear being put under general anesthesia and never waking up again because of my COPD. The surgeon is aware of my lung condition and assures me the anesthesiologist will closely monitor my oxygen levels during the procedure. So, I’m trusting my life that that will be the case. I guess in the worst-case scenario, dying blissfully ignorant in your sleep is not a bad way to go when your time on earth is over. I hope mine isn’t, but there’s only one way to find out.

After the doctor’s visit, we drove back to SBMA and did the weekly grocery shopping. I confess that I passed on some items, telling myself I’d wait and see if I still need them next week. Yeah, I know that’s stupid negative thinking, but sometimes I just can’t help myself.

When beer o’clock rolled around, I headed into town. I decided to skip my regular Tuesday floating bar visit and spend the evening in Barretto instead.

Sloppy Joe’s is the first bar I pass on my journey to Barretto, and my pal Chris and his gal Shie waved for me to join them.

I didn’t really have a plan for the evening, but I could see Cheap Charlies in the distance and figured I’d visit there next. But once I was out front, I saw the bar was full of RSL members (the Australian equivalent to the VFW), so I decided to continue up the highway. I hadn’t been to Blue Butterfly for a while, so I rectified that neglect.

I had a batch of brownies with me, and the three girls serving the outside area at BB were clamoring for a taste. I told them that’s what they were for and bought a drink for each to wash them down. Soon enough, the inside gals came out for a brownie, too (no drinks for them, though), and everyone seemed to enjoy them. I cracked my usual lame joke about brownies for brown knees, and they politely laughed. It was an enjoyable visit, and they reminded me that the Hash On-Home would be there this Monday. Hmm, I’d forgotten about that. I don’t expect I’ll be up for a Hash hike, but hopefully, I’ll be sufficiently recovered to come to the Hash Circle. We shall see.

I popped into It Doesn’t Matter next. It was dead, so I had one beer and left. I tried Green Room, and it was too crowded for my tastes, so I settled into Wet Spot and ordered a beer. Neither of my regulars was working, and manager Brett was off too, so I got bored and went to Alaska for my nightcap. I had a nice time there and actually enjoyed the show one of the dancers put on. No lady drink, but I did give her a 50 peso tip. I got home well before 8 p.m. and made up a batch of smoothies for Swan, my helper, and me.

And for the second night in a row, I had difficulty sleeping. My tracker says I went to sleep at 8:23 and woke again at 9:23. Didn’t fall asleep again until 2:34, then awoke for good at 3:50. Making matters worse, my TV wouldn’t connect to Netflix, so I had to settle for mostly lame YouTube videos to fill the sleepless hours. I guess I should be looking forward to Saturday when I know I’ll be in a drug-induced deep sleep. I still want to wake up early, though!

Despite the lack of sleep, I participated in the Wednesday Walkers group hike this morning, and I’ll be heading out to feed the gals at Hideaway a bit later. Life goes on. Hopefully.

I’m fixin’ to head out of town this morning and it is now or never for a post today, so here’s what I’ve got to share before I go.

After dinner, Swan agreed to join me at one of the new drinking establishments in town, Red Bar. It has dancers, but of course, they weren’t the focus of my attention. It was pleasant enough there except for the music. Why the bar chooses to play (c)Rap music in a town full of geriatrics makes no sense to me. I suggested we go where the music was more to our liking, and Swan was down with that.

But where? The nice thing about Red Bar was that I’m not a regular there (and didn’t know anyone). The next bar up the highway was my regular haunt, Wet Spot. It just seemed weird to be taking a date there. And yeah, I wondered how my “regulars” like Aine would react. I was about to find out because Aine was outside the front door as we arrived. And boy, was I in for a surprise because Swan knew her! They gave each other a warm greeting, and then we went inside and sat at the backslapper’s table. We ordered drinks from my regular waitress, Irene, and settled in. Then Swan asked if I would mind inviting Aine to join us. HaHa! A girl after my own heart!

Wet Spot was our last stop of the night, but I was impressed that Swan had joined me for a bar hop and seemed to enjoy herself. That was a first for us.

The morning had been nice as well. I did a 6K solo walk and completed it without issue.

And now it is time to pack up the laptop and get ready to roll. Next report will be from La Union. Stay tuned!

Once again, I am suffering from the effects of sleep deprivation after being denied a good night’s sleep. I don’t understand what that’s all about, but at least I’m getting some value from my Netflix subscription. And in the meantime, life goes on.

My big news is that tomorrow morning, I’ll be heading out for La Union, where I will participate in a weekend Hash event–The Haggis Bash. I attended once before, and it was an enjoyable Scottish-themed gathering featuring bagpipes and various competitions between the Hashers, including a beer-drinking contest, sack races, and a tug-a-war. There will be Hash runs on Friday afternoon and Saturday morning as well. I paid several weeks ago, but with my recent ill-health, I was wavering on the wisdom of attending. Now, I deem myself sufficiently recovered to participate, although I will exercise discretion in my selection of activities and trails. Wish me luck!

The Wednesday Walkers group took a 5K stroll through the back streets of Subic-town, which proved to be quite enjoyable. Only three of us (Scott, Gary, and me) participated this week, but we all shared an appreciation for a flat walk on a hot day, and we were not disappointed.

It was nice to be out and about. Eventually I’m going to have to challenge myself with a hill climb, but for now I’m content with just getting my steps in.

I stepped on the scale this morning and was pleasantly surprised to see that I’m down to 232 pounds. It’s disappointing that I’m not seeing a reduction in belly fat yet, but I’ve another thirty-seven pounds to lose to reach my goal. The belly is always the last to go, it seems.

The Wednesday Hideaway feeding was a simple success:

There were two other customers at the bar who were friends with manager Griff; everyone but me had a thick English accent. Each of them, in turn, bought me a beer, which is always a nice gesture. Of course, it costs me because Joy gets a lady drink when I get a beer. Oh well, it’s the thought that counts. Before I left, I reciprocated by getting each of them a drink. Good times.

Swan had attended an afternoon Mass at the local Catholic church. She messaged me when the service was over, and we met up at BarCelona and enjoyed a nightcap on the rooftop. Once we were back at home, we sat out on the patio and enjoyed another drink before heading to bed.

I woke up three hours later and could not get back to sleep. So I once again spent the wee hours of morning feeling “Shameless.” It struck me today how this American family struggling below the poverty line lives so much better than the majority of Filipinos. The Gallaghers call their house a “slum,” but it is far nicer than most of the slum villages I walk through. I guess it’s all relative.

Packing for my weekend excursion is next on my agenda. Later, I’ll be taking Swan out for dinner at Mango’s. Stay tuned for whatever happens next!

And everything in between. Here’s how I filled those hours yesterday.

An uneventful shopping excursion to Royal allowed me to fill my pantry and empty my wallet simultaneously. Just like magic.

Shortly after I arrived home, a worker installed a new mirrored sliding door on my master bedroom closet. So much nicer than the curtain that previously hung there.

I took care of my blogging chore and then finished watching Season 3 of “Shameless.”

Then I was off for some me time. I’ve sorta penciled in the floating bar as my “go-to” venue for Tuesday nights. Much quieter and laid back on weeknights, and I like that. Had a nice chat with the bar owner and another guy. I found out later the other guy was Swan’s brother-in-law. Small-town living at its finest!

After disembarking from the floater I walked across the beach to Da Kudos where I had the bar to myself. And my ex, the lovely Jessa, was tending bar and we had a nice chat. When heaven gives me some do-overs, I’ll try to make things right with her.

I got a trike from Da Kudos and had every intention of calling it a night, but when we reached the National Highway, I impulsively asked the driver to drop me at Whiskey Girl instead. I hadn’t been there for a month or so and figured it was overdue for a nightcap visit. My favorites, Jenn and Kim, were both very happy to see me, especially because I was the only customer when I arrived. One lady drink each and a nice tip, and I was out the door after two beers.

Not much to do with those wee hours in the morning but plant yourself in front of the TV and follow the travails of the shameless Gallagher family. Hey, it could be worse! And I was up and about to witness the dawning of a new day:

I’d call this the means to an end:

Today’s song is something a little different. I came across it for some unremembered reason several years ago, and Facebook memories shared it with me again today. Wikipedia says this:

“Jaan Pehechan Ho” (“Let’s Know Each Other”) is an Indian rock & roll Bollywood song, sung by Mohammed Rafi, composed by duo Shankar Jaikishan, and with Hindi-Urdu lyrics by Shailendra.^[1] It was produced for the 1965 Bollywood film Gumnaam, directed by Raja Nawathe, produced by N.N. Sippy, and starring Manoj Kumar and Nanda. The song has been widely “remediated” in North American circulation.^[2]

Anyway, I don’t understand a single word of the lyrics, but it has a very catchy tune and the dancing in the video is fun to watch. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did:

Well, damn. That’s never happened before. Give it a watch on YouTube instead.

It’s Hash Monday, so I’m gonna dash off a quick post about yesterday before heading for the hills.

I had it in mind to do a Marian Hills/San Isidro/Govic Highway/Santa Monica/Barretto solo hike that would have taken seven kilometers or so to complete. But once I got started, I knew I was having an off day. Just lacking energy and feeling winded, despite not doing any hills. I considered bailing and catching a trike home, but instead, I cut out the Govic/Santa Monica portion and finished my journey in a little over 4K.

Back home, I engaged in the usual afternoon routines. I also changed things up by baking a dozen banana-nut muffins instead of brownies for the Hideaway feeding.

The feeding was uneventful, but the girls did seem to enjoy the muffins. After Hideaway, I paid a visit to Oasis and then finished my night at Alaska Club.

And once I was back home, things went south. After a few beers, I have no trouble falling asleep (last week, the problem was waking up after a couple of hours and not being able to go back to sleep). Last night, for whatever reason, sleep wouldn’t come. Plan B is to watch some Netflix (I’m on Season 3 of “Shameless” now), but for whatever reason, Netflix wouldn’t load on the TV. YouTube was working, and one of the movies on my “recommended” list was “End of the World.”

The characters were so shallow, and the storyline so stupid I wondered if this was supposed to be a comedy. Except it wasn’t funny, either. It even failed at boring me to sleep. Well, there’s an hour and a half of my life I’ll never get back.

I went back to bed after the movie but still couldn’t sleep. So, I watched some vloggers sharing their experiences in the PI and other assorted YouTube crap. I’d doze off periodically in my easy chair for a few minutes at a time, and that was the extent of my sleep last night. We’ll see how that affects my Hash performance this afternoon.

Almoranus is the Hare today, and the inside scoop is he’s prepared an 11K monster up on Kalaklan Ridge. Nope, that ain’t happening for me. I’m meeting up with Pubic Head and we are going to do our own “sane” trail. On Home is at Johansson’s today. Wish me luck!

Nothing like a seasoned ship:

See you here tomorrow!

I am happy to report that I once again feel almost normal. I was beginning to have some doubts that I’d ever recover the strength to engage in the lifestyle to which I’ve become accustomed, but yesterday, I felt like I’d turned the corner on the road to recovery.

The day didn’t start out looking so positive. I had a near sleepless night, and the pain in my side was back, although diminished. I did an abbreviated dog walk and then began to doubt the wisdom of participating in the Friday group hike. Ultimately, I decided to join with the caveat that I’d bail out as circumstances warranted. So, I took a pain pill and headed out.

Only four of us were in attendance, so the decision was made to trike out to the end of Sawmill Road and commence our hike from Bridge #6. Two trikes at 200 pesos each had us there twenty minutes later. Then, we commenced with the mostly flat 5K walk back to Barretto. It was really enjoyable for me to be off the streets for a change, and the route we took was one I’ve rarely traversed. The hike went surprisingly well for me, with only one minor breathing issue near the end after our only climb. I had debated taking a longer route to avoid the hill but ultimately decided I needed to challenge myself. No regrets.

I have lots of photos to share, including the usual contributions from Scott as well as some from the newest member of our group, Bhel. Let’s get to it, shall we?

It was so good to be back on trail again. Sorry for the overload of pictures, but it was great being back in the embrace of mother nature.

A nap, some blogging, a shower, and then I looked outside.

I had decided not to attend the SOB competition this week. Once or twice a month keeps it fresh for me. And with freshness in mind, I plotted a bar crawl featuring rarely visited venues beginning at my end of the highway. My plan was two beers per bar with a finish no later than 8 p.m.

The next “bar” on this side of the street is Johansson’s. While it has a bar and serves alcoholic beverages, it has more of a restaurant vibe about it. Again, nothing wrong with that, but I got bored before I finished my first beer, so I moved on. I’ll be back on Monday for the Hash On-Home.

Then it was Alley Hideout, aka Alley Cats, my old dart bar. Lots of turnover in staff with only one familiar face amongst the waitresses. A dart tournament was in progress, and I recognized some of the players. Jim came in as part of his own bar crawl, so I had someone to chat with as I downed my beers.

I moved up the highway to the next venue, Rosies. This is a bar I might visit twice a year. Before the scamdemic, it employed dancers, but those days are now over. Rosies now has more of a pool hall vibe. There was a pool tournament taking place during my visit. The waitresses were friendly, and one in particular was pretty aggressive in seeking my attention. So, I answered the usual questions and heard her sad story (her boyfriend makes a baby and then leaves, so working in the bar was her last best option). Still, she was pleasant enough to talk to, and I rewarded her with a lady’s drink.

And that was the end of my crawl–five bars, nine beers. Another sign that I’m back to being my old, hardy self. I headed to the trike stand at the Maze and stopped at Sit-n-Bull for the pecan pie I missed on Thanksgiving to bring home to share with Swan and Teri. Home and in bed before nine.

And here is maybe the best news of the day:

There you have it–back to my walkaholic and alcoholic ways, with the added ability to sleep it off and start over again the next day. Life is good!

Yesterday’s joke was older than I realized and had been used here twice previously. So, let’s try this one and see what happens:

On a bus two men with strong accents begin a conversation. The lady next to them is eavesdropping.

“Emma come first, the I come. Den two esses acoma together. I come once-a-more. Two esses, they comma together again. I come again, then pee twice. The I come one lasta time.”

“You dirty bastards!” the woman exclaims. “We don’t talk about our sex lives in public in this country!”

“Hey, whattsa matter with you?” the man asks. “I’m justa tellin’ my friend how to spell Mississippi.”

I have a date night with Swan later. I’m going to take her to the floating bar and then we will have dinner at Treasure Island. It’s good to be alive!

Yesterday was a day to be thankful for. Come along while I share the highlights.

I had a reservation for four at Sit-n-Bull, having invited my driver, domestic helper, and Swan to join me for a traditional Thanksgiving feast.

My driver picked us up at noon for the short drive to Sit-n-Bull, where our table was waiting.

No complaints about the food; it certainly filled me up. I was disappointed there was no pumpkin pie or other dessert offered with the meal. The logistics of eating in a restaurant seem to emphasize that the traditional Thanksgiving feast works best as a family gathering at home. I know I like loading up my own plate with all my preferred favorites. And going back for seconds. I also thought about the side dishes my mama would make–like a green bean casserole and candied yams. Damn, I miss that!

We all enjoyed a heaping helping of my Aunt Pat’s Recipe World Famous Fruit Salad when we returned home after our dinner.

Another Thanksgiving tradition is the post-meal nap. I took a much-needed one after my nearly sleepless night on Wednesday and felt somewhat refreshed when I awoke. Swan was busy with her tutoring gig, and I was craving some San Mig Zero beer, so I headed into town. My first stop was Sloppy Joe’s, and it was about as busy as I’ve ever seen. I was seated in my preferred streetside table area, but the only available chair was near the music speaker. And for whatever reason, they had the volume set at blaring. Troy was there and joined me at my table, but it was hard to carry on a conversation with all the noise. I finished my second beer and departed.

It had been a very long time since I paid a visit to BarCelona (two floors above Sloppy Joe’s), and I remedied that by climbing the stairs and taking a rooftop seat in the nearly deserted bar.

BarCelona has pne of the best bar ambiances in town. Open air inside features a large bar, several big-screen TVs playing music videos (at a reasonable volume), and a pool table. It’s all very clean and comfortable. I enjoy sitting on the rooftop in the late afternoon/evening hours and taking in the views (not so much when the sun is shining overhead or during rainy season). Why don’t I come here more often? I’ve had multiple incidents of lousy service in the past, and with so many other options available, I just stopped coming. That wasn’t a problem last night. My waitress was a gal who used to work at Whiskey Girl (she remembered me by name; I didn’t recognize her at all). We sat and talked and my impression is that she was the head waitress (or at least she was training one of the other girls serving). I shared with her some of my past experiences, and she assured me that it was unlikely to happen again, at least as long as she was working. Fair enough. I can see myself enjoying some beers here more frequently.

I decided to stay in the Maze for barhopping purposes and went downstairs to the Green Room for my next venue. It was also very busy, but I had a coupon good for a free beer and then 50% off the remainder of the night, so I put it to work. I usually enjoy watching the pool games when I’m here, but no one played last night. After my second beer, I was feeling bored, so I moved next door to Wet Spot (my coupon was good there too). As usual, I sat at the manager’s table (popularly called the backslapper’s table) and enjoyed some chat with my fellow tablemates. Two more beers, and I called it a night, arriving back home at 7:30.

I enjoyed a little time with Swan on the patio; then I got ready for bed. And lo and behold, I finally slept long enough for my Fitbit to track my sleep performance.

So, I fell asleep at 8:36 and woke up at 1:09 in the morning. Of course, I wasn’t able to go back to sleep, so that meant spending more time binge-watching Netflix. Almost through with Season 2 of “Shameless” and I’m still enjoying the show. My normal sleep is usually at least five hours, but I guess last night qualifies as progress.

Facebook memories reminded me of a walk I took six years ago:

And today’s dose of humor:

A priest offered a lift to a Nun.

She got in and crossed her legs, forcing her gown to reveal a leg.

The priest nearly had an accident. After controlling the car, he stealthily slid his hand up her leg.

The nun said, “Father, remember Psalm 129?”

The priest removed his hand.

But, changing gears, he let his hand slide up her leg again.

The nun once again said, “Father, remember Psalm 129?”

The priest apologized “Sorry sister but the flesh is weak.”

Arriving at the convent, the nun went on her way.

On his arrival at the church, the priest rushed to look up Psalm 129.

It said, “Go forth and seek, further up, you will find glory.”

Moral of the story: If you are not well informed in your job, you might miss a great opportunity.

And that’s all I’ve got for today. I did my first group hike in too long this morning; look for a full report and pictures here tomorrow.

Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate this holiday.

I’m feeling especially thankful this year to be amongst the living and presumably on the road to improved health. The visit to the radiologist in Olongapo for a gut ultrasound came with the typical frustrations (waiting time), but in the end, the procedure was accomplished successfully. One difference this time was that they wanted my bladder full, so I was instructed to drink water while I waited my turn and that I should not use the comfort room (toilet). When I finally got on the table I needed to take a leak but gritted my teeth and toughed it out.

Later in the afternoon, I had an appointment with Dr. Jo to review the ultrasound results. The good news is that I’m not retaining fluid in my abdomen, and my liver and bladder both appear normal. I have some small stones in my left kidney but they aren’t related to the bruising and pain in my side. So, that issue is likely muscular, and I was advised just to monitor the condition to see if it worsens. This morning, the bruises appear to have faded some, and the pain when I cough is not nearly as severe.

Regarding the cough, Dr. Jo said several other patients have similar problems, and the cough has been more persistent and longer lasting than usual. She advised me to continue my antibiotics and to come back in a week if I’m not better. Dr. Jo also suggested tea with ginger. Her hubby, Dr. Chris, who sits in on the consultations, chimed in and said, “And put some ginger in your beer.” I responded, “Sounds good, which bar does Ginger work at?” They laughed, and Dr. Jo said that I am her funniest patient. See? Bad puns have some value after all.

I planned to head over to Hideaway Bar after my appointment for the Wednesday feeding. I had baked a batch of brownies for gal’s dessert, but instead, I gifted them to Dr. Jo and Chris as a Thanksgiving gift and a thank you for liking my jokes.

On my way to Hideaway, I ordered a pizza (a 16″ thin crust Hawaiian) for delivery from Shamboli’s, then I stopped at Dunkin’ Donuts and got an assorted dozen to replace the regifted brownies.

I left Hideaway a bit before dark and made Oasis Bar my next stop. I was the only customer upstairs, and the vibe was dull during my brief stay. One beer, and I moved on. And then, in a moment of impulsiveness, I climbed the steps up to Cheap Charlies.

It’s been a month or so since my last visit to what used to be one of my favorite bars. I stopped coming because of what I considered rude treatment from two of my long-term regulars there, Alma and Nerissa. That was the night the big-spending bellringer (who appeared to be Korean, not that it matters) was repeatedly ringing the bell and buying a round of drinks for all the girls. My issue was that “my” two weren’t sitting with the customer (which I would have understood), but they still acted like I was invisible.

As usual, when I took my seat last night, both Nerissa and Alma sat down on either side. I made some smartass remarks along the lines of, “Ah, now that the big spender isn’t here, you like me again.” They both insisted that it hadn’t been their intent to ignore me (Alma was adamant that she had, in fact, greeted me when I arrived) and explained why they hadn’t joined me–I had come in with three guys that night, and they didn’t want to intrude on our group gathering. Hmm, that’s plausible. Anyway, enough water had flowed over the dam since that night to carry my anger and disappointment away, so I opted to choose the path of forgiveness.

It wasn’t quite 6:30, but given my lack of sleep the night before, I was ready to make my next stop home. I invited Swan to pour a glass of wine and join me at the Cool It patio bar (the Rite Spot rooftop bar will be opening soon). I turned on the Bluetooth speaker and picked a playlist Spotify had created for me called “Rock Songs.” And damned if I didn’t like every song that came up. I threw together some cheese nachos with salsa and headed to the patio.

I went to bed early, and once again, I was suddenly awakened by an intense dream that felt real. And once again, I was not able to go back to sleep. So once again, I engaged in a “Shameless” viewing marathon of several Season 2 episodes. If this inability to get a full night’s sleep continues, I may have to consider sleeping pills, something I’ve never taken and would prefer not to use. I’m curious how long I can get by on just a couple of hours of sleep every night before I collapse in exhaustion. Although I don’t want to find out by doing it.

I’m treating my helpers and driver to a lunchtime Thanksgiving feast at Sit-n-Bull. I’m also making my Aunt Pat’s Recipe World Famous Fruit Salad to enjoy when we return home after the meal. I expect a LONG afternoon nap is in my near future.

And one more for the road:

And that’s all I’ve got for now. I’ll post pictures of my feast here tomorrow. Enjoy the blessings of life and be thankful for the time we have been allowed.

I saw Dr. Jo yesterday afternoon to discuss the bruising and pain in my side. I was pretty confident it was something muscular causing the problem, but Dr. Jo agreed with my commenters and said there were multiple possibilities, including fluid retention, and she said these could pose serious health risks. She sent me for an ultrasound of my innards, and I’ll be back to see her again this afternoon.

I finished the doctor’s appointment at 2:30 and decided there was no point in returning home only to return to town an hour later. So, I decided to take a stroll down Baloy Beach and visit the floating bar even though it wasn’t beer o’clock yet.

As I’ve mentioned before, I enjoy the ambiance of floating on the bay and taking in the views. Yesterday’s experience was less satisfying than normal. My regular waitress wasn’t there, and despite there being at least a dozen GROs aboard, none of them deemed me worthy of a chat. That’s okay; it saved me money on lady drinks, but there was a different vibe about it. I was also disappointed that the floater still doesn’t have San Mig Zero available. SML is fine, just higher alcohol content (3% versus 5%), and since I was drinking an hour earlier than usual, I had to pace myself accordingly. When I finished my third beer, I paid up and headed for shore.

It had been a long time since my last visit to McCoy’s, so I strolled up the beach and popped in for a beer. They also only had SML. They’ve remodeled, and there were no longer any bar stools, so I sat at a table.

No one was singing when I arrived, but a few sips into my beer, a younger Filipino fired up the machine and did the worst rendition of “Hotel California” I’ve ever suffered through. When I finished my beer, I had heard and seen enough, so I took off down the road and made The Snackbar my next stop. It was pretty quiet customer-wise, but my two favorites–Jenn and Roseanne–were ready and waiting. And thirsty. Still, we had a nice catch-up chat, and they laughed at my jokes, so the lady drink commissions were well-earned. My ex popped in for a quick hello, hugged me, and then disappeared. Just like old times.

My watch told me it was “only” six o’clock, but my body said to get my ass home where I belong. And so my beer binge ended and I grabbed a trike. Swan was waiting when I arrived and she fixed me a quick dinner of hamburger patties with cheese. I was feeling tired and went to bed shortly after I finished eating.

And then it happened again. I woke from a dream, and then my racing brain refused to let me go back to sleep. I looked at my watch and said, “Fuck. It’s only nine o’clock.” I fooled around on the internet for a bit, then moved into the living room to continue watching “Shameless.” And I binge-watched the remaining eight episodes of Season 1, finishing around 4:00 a.m. Now that I’m familiar with the characters and the plotlines around living at the poverty line in Chicago, I’ve gotten to enjoy the series more. But with ten more seasons to go, it’s going to be a challenge to see them all, especially if I figure out a cure for insomnia. Oh well. As of now, my plan is to complete the journey I have begun–or die trying.

Here’s the preview clip from Season 1 that gives you the flavor of the show:

What the clip doesn’t show is that some of the scenes are on the racy side, if you consider tits and ass racy.

Needless to say, the lack of sleep has made for feeling miserable so far today. I got back from Olongapo, where I had my belly organs scanned via ultrasound. Now I’m fixin’ to head back to Dr. Jo’s office so she can review the results. I share that outcome tomorrow. I’m hoping to have something to be Thankful for.

Here’s your daily dose of humor:

Today’s song is one of my old favorites. I hope I feel lucky after talking with Doc Jo.

Little by little, step by step.

I made it all the way to Hideaway Bar from my house yesterday afternoon. The best part of that is I didn’t experience any severe breathing episodes along the way. One technique I’ve been implementing is pursed lips breathing while I walk. I know it works because I tested it with my oximeter (that thing you clip on your finger to measure blood oxygen levels). I started with a reading of 92, engaged the pursed lips technique, and raised the reading to 95 in just a couple of minutes. I used to purse my lips for kissing; now I do it to breathe. Man, old age is a bitch.

I’m still coughing, although not as frequently. The big problem with that is I get an extreme stabbing pain in my left side.

Still, I’m better than I was and not as good as I hope to be soon.

So, the feeding went well. I carry my portable nebulizer with me now when I go out, and I fired it up once at the bar. I cut my visit a little shorter than usual and started making my way back up the highway. As I passed the Annex bar, I spotted Chris and his gal, and they invited me to join them. Chris has been dealing with some health issues, too, so we exchanged stories about our plight, just like a couple of old men. Which I guess we are.

I headed for the trike stand at The Maze next but decided to do a nightcap before I departed. I went into The Green Room, but it was packed, so I moved next door to Wet Spot and secured my regular seat, and was served by my regular waitress. My bar stamina is still not at full capacity, so I headed home at an early, a little before 7:00.

I hadn’t reached my beer capacity as yet, so I grabbed one from the fridge and sat outside on my patio, enjoying the nighttime view. Swan joined me with a glass of wine, and we shared some quality moments together. I was in bed at 8:00. I had a strange and vivid dream that woke me at midnight, and once again, I was beset with sleeplessness.

In keeping with my new custom, I moved into the living room and fired up the television. For some reason, Netflix wouldn’t connect. So, I tried YouTube, and it worked. When I started scrolling the offerings there, one of the first films on the list was Junior Bonner, a movie starring Steve McQueen as an aging rodeo star. The movie has special significance for me because it was filmed in Prescott, Arizona, where I lived from 1978-1983.

Nothing like a stroll down memory land in the wee hours of a sleepless morning. I happened upon a post I wrote in 2015 about some of the connections between the film and my life in Prescott. The most notable being the song “Arizona Morning,” which was featured in the opening credits of the movie. The song was written and performed by Rod Hart, a Prescott musician. I learned to country dance while his band performed in the local bars.

I tend to agree with the summary of reviews for Junior Bonner included in the Wikipedia entry for the movie. It wasn’t as good as I remembered it to be; it didn’t seem to connect the dots or have a lot of meat on the bones. The movie was also a box office flop. I hadn’t really followed the life and career of Steve McQueen, who was never one of my favorite actors, but damn, the man lived a fascinating and varied life. After reading McQueen’s story, I have a lot more respect for his lifetime accomplishments. McQueen died at age 50 of lung disease.

And that’s today’s example of putting insomnia to productive use. Still, I’m hoping to get back to a full night’s sleep soon.

For you pun addicts, here’s today’s fix:

And it is Hash Monday. I’m not even going to attempt doing the trail–I don’t feel ready for a climb. My plan is to try and walk from my house to the On-Home at One Three Resort in Calapadayan, about 4K by my reckoning. It will be all on the highway, which sucks, but hopefully I’ll be good to go next week.

Of all the places I lived in the USA, Prescott was my favorite. Perhaps that is why this song resonates with me so much.

Morning, Arizona morning
Almost sets me free
Makes me glad to be alive
Wondering, why I started wandering
Should have stayed right here
Underneath the clear blue skies

Sadness, changing now to gladness
With the rustle of the breeze through the pinyon trees
Where I lay
In the morning, Arizona morning
A place where I can smile
And see a hundred miles away

The birds are flying high above the morning
Singing to the colors of the dawn
And in my mind I hear a gentle warning
You’ve been a wrangler and a rambler
Much too long

And a rover. Wishing it was over
All my battles won, resting in the sun this way
In the morning, Arizona morning
Coming home today, wishing I could stay
Wishing I could stay.

If you want to see the full movie, here you go:

And so the saga continues. I attended a birthday party at Snackbar last evening. Once again, the short walk to the highway took my breath away. I made it, though, and camped out on a barstool for the rest of the evening. It was a little strange to see my ex loving on her new guy/fiancé, but that ship sailed for me long ago and the pain is gone. My sincere hope is that the path she has chosen will lead to the fulfillment of her dreams. It was nice to have Swan by my side for the first hour or so as well.

Coincidentally, Mary, the eighteen-year-old I briefly dated, turned nineteen yesterday. We exchanged some messages, and she told me she was drinking alone at McCoy’s on Baloy. I invited her to stop by Snackbar, and I would treat her to a birthday drink. It turns out she was walking to the highway from Baloy, so she was passing Snackbar anyway. It has been several months since we’ve seen each other, so having another birthday girl at the party was nice. A guy friend of mine got introduced to Mary, and to hear him tell it, it was love at first sight–at least for him. They exchanged Facebook info, so maybe they’ll get together again.

I headed for home about 8:00 and was in bed before 9:00. And then I woke up at midnight and couldn’t get back to sleep. So, it was back to the TV for me. I needed something to watch to pass the hours, and a short series called The Watcher looked interesting. And so I became one, binge watching through my sleepless night.

By morning time, it had gotten tedious, and I found myself closing my eyes and dozing for a minute or two and then looking back at the screen to discover I hadn’t missed anything new. I guess it served its purpose, but it was not particularly entertaining.

This inability to sleep through the night is frustrating. I’ve never experienced insomnia, and I’m not sure how to deal with it. The weird part is that it isn’t about the coughing or the breathing–it’s in my head. I can’t seem to turn off my brain. Maybe this has something to do with the prescribed medicines I’m taking. Hopefully, I’ll return to normal sleeping habits soon.

In the making progress department, I did the regular dog walk this morning, and then a bit later, I gave myself a walk here in the neighborhood and didn’t experience much discomfort. I really, really want to get back to hiking soon. I miss it!

I reckon I’ll try once more for an afternoon nap. It’s feeding day at Hideaway, and the walk to get there will be challenging. But I need to make the effort–Never surrender!

Yesterday was spent in pursuit of better health, and hopefully, some progress was made in that regard. The morning began with a bit of a surprise when a taxi showed up at the house instead of my regular driver. It turns out Danny had a conflict in schedules, so he sent his nephew to ferry us about. A heads-up would have been nice, but no big deal.

The first stop was Baypointe Hospital to make arrangements to see a pulmonary doctor. The one I had seen previously was out of town, but I was able to sign in with her replacement and was second in line under the first-come, first-served scheduling system used here. Of course, the office hours for the pulmonary doc didn’t begin until 3:00 p.m., but by God, I was on the list!

My “appointment” with the cardiologist wasn’t until 10:30, so I filled the time with some errands around SBMA. I hit the ATM at BPI, then visited a surplus store and a large hardware store. I’ve been looking for some furniture for my covered rooftop area and was hoping these venues might stock what I needed. That proved not to be the case, although the hardware store had a couple of things I could use.

My next minor surprise was when it came time to visit the cardiologist; we left SBMA and went to her private clinic in Olongapo City. My helper had made the arrangements, and these office hours were the only ones available during the morning. Whatever works. Alas, I didn’t have an “appointment,” but I did manage to secure third-in-line status. Since the doctor was scheduled to arrive at 11:00, I went and sat in the aircon taxi to wait. I got in a quick nap before my helper was tapping on the window, telling me it was my turn. She had somehow managed to get me advanced to the coveted first-in-line spot!

But the efforts to conclude the objectives with the cardiologist were for naught. My helper had brought the electrocardiogram results, which was supposed to be the last requirement before getting the doctor’s sign-off that my surgery could be scheduled. However, the doctor said she could only sign off after reviewing my entire paperwork again; all those documents were at Baypointe Hospital. So, this trip had been for nothing, but the cardiologist did at least agree to see me first when she began her Baypointe hours at 4:00 p.m. The fact that I had to be back at Baypointe for my 3:00 p.m. with the pulmonary doctor made this news a little easier to bear.

So, it was back to Barretto, and I paid the taxi driver 1500 pesos and made arrangements with him to pick me up again at 2:30. That gave me enough time to do my daily post here, but I had to forego my regular naptime. I got a message from my regular driver that he was now available and would provide my afternoon transport. So, it was back to Baypointe Hospital.

I had a very productive meeting with the pulmonary doctor. He suggested a different antibiotic and altered the content of some of my inhalers. He agreed that until I had recovered from my current state of breathing difficulties, surgery was not in the cards. I came away with five new prescriptions and some good advice on process and scheduling my meds for effectiveness. He wants me to return next week to see the regular pulmonary doc, and he thinks my chest congestion will clear by then. Here’s hoping.

Next up was the cardiologist revisit, and true to her word, she reviewed my paperwork and signed off on everything within five minutes. So, at least I’m done with her for now.

My driver dropped my helper at the pharmacy in Barretto, and I had him drop me at The Green Room, this week’s host for the SOB. I questioned my judgment in doing so because it required a three-hour commitment (and a 750 peso entry fee), but life is for living, right? I felt a little “off” all evening but made it through until the conclusion at 8:00 p.m. Triked home and was hoping for a better night’s sleep.

Alas, it was not to be. I managed less than three hours of slumber. I’ve felt like shit most of the day today. Coughing a little less frequently perhaps, but each cough comes with a stabbing pain in my side. My blood oxygen levels are in the acceptable range for me (the pulmonary doc said I’d be alright at 93 or above), so there’s that. Still feeling lightheaded and having difficulty in the prone position. Most of sleep I managed last night was upright in a chair in my living room. On the plus side, I did finish watching “Beef” on Netflix and overall enjoyed it.

So, what’s next? Honestly, sometimes it feels as if I’m knocking on heaven’s door. I know that is melodramatic, but I don’t recall ever feeling this vulnerable heathwise in the past. I’m not sure how much the lack of sleep is exacerbating those feelings, but it can’t be helping my recovery. This morning I said, “fuck it” it’s on me to regain some control, so despite feeling weak and unmotivated, I did a short dog walk. Yeah, I was puffing on the street, but I felt better having gotten some steps in. I managed a two-hour nap this afternoon, which also seems to have helped clear my head. I’m going to tentatively consider that progress and hope that full recovery is only days away.

A friend is celebrating her birthday at Snackbar this evening and Swan is going to join me there for a bit before meeting up with her sister. And life goes on. Until it doesn’t.

I’m going to keep thinking positive and hopefully find some peace and comfort in a good sleep tonight. I’ll let you know how that goes tomorrow.