sometimes I hate these small comforts, the things that keep me out of the hospital…..
Hot showers and baths
bike rides
playing with my dogs
video games
movies
coffee, it’s nearly impossible to get good coffee in the hospital
nicotine, in the hospital it’s nicotine patches, not pleasant at all
as long as it could get worse, I try to hold on. Earlier today I visited a person who has screwed his life up more completely than I have, and while I admire the boldness, I can’t do it. The guy has alienated everyone that would even try to be his friend, to the point he’s working awful hours, with very little comfort. The only reason he’s even got a roof over his head is two of the most kind and generous human beings I’ve ever met.
and daily, he dances with his own destruction. Earlier this week he thought he wanted to go to a new city, and be homeless in it…. how awful are things when that seems viable? IDK, made me realize it could be so much worse, worse than I can imagine.
Then I feel bad for feeling like I’m doing better than this poor sod. He’s at life full tilt, working, functioning, and I have the nerve to look down on him? I haven’t worked for months. Not that work is the only value judgement…. just a very important one.
Small comforts, night meds and melatonin gummies, which I probably could still get in the hospital, but not the comfortable bed. Hospital mattresses suck. So do the blankets.