Pulling Herself Together

Slowly but surely, Fiorella is repairing herself. She's come to terms with her friend's death, recovered from the gunk, and gotten her computer set back on its axis. In addition, her car now releases the ignition key on command, and she has the address and phone number of a cell phone repair shop in a shopping center in Round Rock. And while she's in the vicinity, she'll beard Eye Mart Express with the information that those last glasses whe got from them were bogus--the lenses were weaker than her previous glasses, and Fio doesn't think the ophthamologist was to blame.
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Yes, of course Trump is getting more awful by the moment. His dementia is on a rollercoaster ride, and the GOP is hanging on for dear life, trying to get everything it can out of him before he crashes.
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Fiorella loves cold weather, especially when she's sitting on the couch in front of a roaring fire.
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Busting down the Interstate at 80 mph relaxes Fio. Her eyes, ears, hands, and feet take over and drive automatically as her brain wanders into channels more interesting.
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Fiorella's telenovela had its last hurrah last night. Daniela and Gabriel are married, Eugenio and Blanca have come to a new understanding of their relationship, Julieta and Robert/Juan Pablo, who now have two children, will be moving out of the extended-family home to their own casa, Marisol and Xavi are heading toward some kind of accomodation, Audifaz's book is selling, Linda and Bruno are back together, and Hugo's cookie business is taking off so he and his wife are escaping from his mothe at last. And your Fiorella thinks she's picked up a little more Spanish. Gone are the days when she couldn't sort the characters' names out from the dialogue.

What Is This Thing Called "Normal?"

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...the light at the end of the tunnel. Husband has been home from the hospital for a week now and seems to be genuinely on the mend this time.  Meanwhile Minnesota son has gotten the family electronics straightened out and helped with after-care and transportation, and Fiorella's monstrous list has been reduced to half a page.  Still a few things to go--like finding Husband's wallet--but all in all, sanity is returning to Casa Fiorella. She's planning to wash her hair today and has made arrangements to attend a romance writers' meeting tonight. And, wonder of wonders, she's soon going to have time to write again.

Continuing Saga

Husband is still in the hospital, but Daughter took off yesterday to help Fio.  In fact, she took over, which was great, accompanying Fiorella to the hospital, preparing a list of questions, and grilling the nurses, then taking Fio out to eat at Chili's. Afterwards she helped Fio gather what seemed like a fifty-pound weight of items Husband needed at his bedside, which Fio dutifully delivered after Daughter left.

This morning, Husband called Fio with all sorts of complaints about the nursing staff, so he must be getting better.

Fio's Health Update

The wind is blowing, the fire is glowing, and Fio is getting better at last.  Those strange little pills that can somehow seek out just the right ligament in her jaw and and make it work right are having a positive effect bit by bit (pun intended), and the antibiotics she's taking to clear out her upper respiratory system are allowing her breath again.  Now let's hope the raw throat recovers enough that she can eat more than chicken rice soup, chocolate pudding, and vanilla ice cream.

Funkless

Fiorella's cousin is visiting for the first time ever next week, which means Fio is running around like the proverbial headless chicken trying to get the house in shape.  It's wearing, but, on the other hand, it's also invigorating--all that action is pulling Fio out of her funk.  And talking to Friend Suzy across the ocean also buoyed her up, as did attending the San Gabriel Writers' League meeting last night.

Action and social communication--that does the trick!

Post Misery

Whoopee!  Fiorella's alive again--or maybe it's the hot chocolate she's been gulping down.

But  the crud (which Fio has been assured is the appropriate medical reference) seems to have run its course, and Fio's now alert, industrious, and writing, writing, writing,  The whole episode started with coughing,then moved on to sneezing, headache, and ennui. During the worst of the mystery illness, she stayed in her heavy robe all day and drowsed on the couch.

Fio assumes she had a bad cold, and her only comfort is that everyone else, even an acquaintance in Colorado, seems to have had it too.  Misery loves company

Up, Up, Up!

Fiorella was bored yesterday, which is a good sign.  It means she isn't falling asleep during the day as much, that she has more stamina, and that her body is urging her to be more active.  Accordingly, she's been using a cane to amble around the house, even going upstairs and finding more clothes for the week.   Today she's planning to drive around a little in prep for a journey to Austin on Wednesday.  She'll also be setting up outpatient treatment for the next two weeks.  This weekend she may be able to move back upstairs to the master bedroom.

Wish her luck.  Fio makes a lousy invalid.

Housekeeping Needed

Husband went back to work yesterday so the dog ate my slippers, making the concrete floor very cold as I hobbled around on the walker fixing my breakfast.

The den and kitchen are disaster areas, of course.  Fio had hoped that by having everything in order before she went to the hospital, she'd make it easy for Husband to keep it that way--the secret is to put stuff back where you got it from--but no such luck.

Fio Has Her Face Back

Fiorella has just returned from the bathroom where she was checking on her face for the fifth time this morning.  It's still got some swollen lumps and  splotchy bruises, but she's in the final stretch and is very happy. 

In fact, she thinks everyone should have a facelift.

Surgical Deprivation

Fiorella is in recovery today, just like Sonia.  Doggie had one end of her body operated on--she was spayed--and Fiorella had her other end fixed--her face was lifted.  Both of us are feeling miserable, Sonia less so than Fio because her operation was last Friday.

Sonia's not supposed to run, jump, or climb for ten days, just like Fio isn't supposed to drive for two weeks. TWO WEEKS WITHOUT DRIVING?!

No way.

Fio Bounces Back

Fio seems to be on the road to recovery, which is good news. at least to Fiorella. During her convalescence, she'd barely been able to crank out her blog, but this morning she sprang out of bed, grabbed a pen and the tablet she keeps ever-ready, and wrote, wrote wrote.

Now she has to ponder the mysteries of the world that have arisen since the mighty brain of Fio was incapacitated by a lowly virus, such as why the engine light of her beloved baby car has suddenly decided to turn as red as a zit on prom night.

Up'n at'em

It's a good day and Fiorella is at peace. All is going well right now. She's losing weight again, wrote several pages of PRINCESS REDLANDER yesterday, and is on top of a family business deal. Husband is chainsawing dead trees around the acreage and using the new log-splitter, then building wonderful fires in the fireplace with the fruits of his labor. Son has some job possibilities, has found places to display his art, and has started working on a new piece.

In other words, we're all engaged in worthwhile, productive activities, and that's the secret. Years ago Fio's father implored her to "slow down and smell the roses," but Fio's the sort of person who always has to have a project going.

She suspects you're that way too.

I'm Baaaaack!

Fiorella the bounceback queen is up and running again. She awoke this morning determined to get some things done, not matter what, then met Friend Paula for lunch, which is always a treat, then did a few more errands on the way home. This was all deliberate--Fio always feels better when she accomplishes something.

But by the time she got home, the headache had started, and it got worse and worse and worse until her whole body ached. Finally she gave in and took a magic pill. Thirty minutes later she started feeling better and better and better. In fact, after Husband came home, she felt well enough to go out and work on repairing the ravages of last week's storm. Maybe she can take care of the south driveway herself after all.

But the best thing was the phone call from Daughter later in the evening. She told me she had a dream about all four of her grandparents last night, and they were all together and happy.

St. Louis, My Hero

I love you, St. Louis office, whoever or whatever you are. You made my day. Fio's been tentatively emerging from her funk, and your comment warmed her all over.

On the plus side, since Fio's method of fighting off depression is to engage in unrelenting physical activity, the laundry is all done and the house is in a lot better shape--straightened up and cleaned out, of course, but not vacuumed.

Depression or not, Fio knows her limits.