I have struggled, my readers.

I had thought, knowing mom's death was nigh, it wouldn't be as bad as when my dad died suddenly in 1984.

I was wrong.

In the time since the last blog entry, getting out of bed feels like climbing a mountain. Uninterested in eating, I force myself to choke down something, anything. Too often that's been some bar food. 

Strangely I've had no issues drinking. Numbness abides.

I found myself just going through the motions for everything else. Only what must be done gets done. Thus the blog hasn't been updated since mid-March. I promise I'll work on that because people keep reading. For someone who pretends to be a writer, a waiting audience has been a gift. 

So I took off today through the weekend and this morning I went to a clinic to get my first primary care giver in years and made positive movement in my life. It felt good.

My blood pressure was sky high to the point the nurse took it twice. The second score was higher, which, like golf, is not the way winning is measured.

But I'm getting meds today and I've made progress in my first day off.

A nurse did try and pull blood but only sausage gravy came out. Is that bad? Thankfully, I always carry biscuits with me so we shared a lovely snack.

It should be noted, after editing tens of thousands of obituaries over 30 years, I've grown concerned my age is nearing the ages of the dead.

At least I'll get 10 percent of my obit, per my contract. Well, I won't get it. Kid will.

But let's postpone that.

Peace unto Ukraine and peace and progress unto all of you my brothers and sisters.