Pgh Lesbian Correspondents

I’ve got pneumonia. I’ve been horribly sick for six days. In bed, sleep all day, disorienting sick. A friend took me to doctor Friday. Now I’m back in bed with shiny new meds.

Is God taking away my breath to silence me?

Breathing has occupied far more time than usual this week. How I sleep or sit-up. How I keep it safe while outdoors. How I keep it flowing. What to eat and drink. What to avoid.

Calculating if I can change the bedding and still breath.

That’s certainly less time for blogging.

The bitter cold worsened everything. I had to go out daily to the cat colonies regardless of how I felt. They needed food, water, and heat sources.

They’ve all survived so far so it was worth it. A friend has taken over for a few days. So now I can just rest.

I can’t really blog. I can, but not very well.

Instead, I’m propped up in bed with a gross sticky coagulent in my chest, determining everything. I can’t taste much. I have soup. I’ve got fevers, chills, congestion, headaches, etc.

Pneumonia pulls my gaze inward, but I suspect there are comparisons with the larger world. A gross invader of my body is consuming my energy, taxing my resources, and repulsing me. Allies have been dispatched to other major organs. Heck, it even began with a small cold that spiraled. Climate change! So many threads to pull.

I’m also thinking there’s a business model for housecleaning after sickness, when patients are recovering and face a week’s worth of laundry, dishes, etc. A recovery support.

I am sort of lost, waiting to heal. I have so many blog projects in mind. I’m trying to follow some news.  It’s hard. The mucous blocking my breathing limits my capacity for critical thinking. The torpor does also minimize my sense of panic or anxiety.

The only thing I need now is someone to come help me with laundry and to help clean my room. It’s overwhelming and uncomfortable due to no fault of my own.

I need family, that’s a family thing, right?

Just breathe.