Yesterday was not the best.
I went to bed with swollen legs and woke up with a face that impeded my breathing. I walked to and from class with my face towards the ground, and I only spoke to one guy that I recognized from class – I did not want people to see my face. Honestly, I was ashamed at the way I looked. I’ve been spoiled, lately, by not having to deal with nephrotic syndrome. I know the reason for the swelling, we all the know the reason – lack of medicine. And even though it’s really easy to think that I should just be more “with it”, that I should get on the ball and not ever forget things like this, there are so many blame drugs to take that it’s hard to keep up with what needs to be refilled, what doesn’t…etc. Of course, there’s the automatic refill option. However, there are some drugs that change alot. I don’t want to get automatic refill for some and not for others, and then forget which ones are automatically refilled and which ones are not, or get them refilled only to find that I no longer have to take this particular medicine or, worse, I need a higher dose of it. Also, I don’t always have enough money to get automatic refill. Argh!
Also, I think I have contracted the cat’s fleas. I woke up dreaming that I heard a flea jump on a book I was reading, and now have itchy ankles and keep thinking I feel things landing on and/or biting me. “Argh!” to that too!
I did get to talk to Mom, who is, at the moment, in Meridian, Mississippi with the Public Health Service. This is a good thing – well the fact that she is in Mississippi is a good thing, but I was actually referring to the fact that I got to talk to her – because Actually, I was getting worried due to the weird dreams. First there was the morning I woke up because I heard her calling me, much the way she used to when I needed to get up for school – this grating, monotone voice. Then there was yesterday, when I came home early (after class had been cancelled) and took a short nap. I had a dream, the weirdest dream ever, that I was driving through france saving babies (which I had been doing, apparently, since 1991) and I went into this one hotel room…the janitor riding up the elevator with me spoke french. I told him I didn’t speak french, but then he found out I spoke Spanish and he did too, so we spoke in that…that was weird. Anyway, to make a very weird dream short, I made bread for my family. And it was awesome, they loved it. I gave some to my grandfather, with a glass of milk, my grandmother, and my mother – and then they started complaining that I was cutting the slices too thin. So I got fed up and told them if they had so many complaints they should do it themselves. Okay, aside frome this being one of the oddest things in the world (when I talked to mom today she told me to quit dreaming, literally) it is notable that both my grandparents are dead – “what was she doing hanging out with them?” I panic, upon regaining consciousness. Sigh. . I’ll be glad when she can come home – for some silly reason I feel like the nearer in proximity someone is to me, the safer they’ll be.