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We may land with a hard thud today as karmic Saturn enters the cosmic picture. The Sun's annual opposition to Saturn throws obstacles into our path if we've been avoiding our responsibilities or seeking shortcuts to success. A harsh Venus-Saturn aspect can create disappointment in love or a financial shortfall. Nevertheless, the Moon's shift into imaginative Pisces at 6:17 am EDT reminds us that a reality check doesn't mean we must stop dreaming.

You might wake up with lofty intentions today, aiming to be methodical about accomplishing your goals. But as the day wears on, you could become increasingly lackadaisical and fall further behind until you just give up. Don't be too self-judgmental if you find yourself on the wrong end of the stick now; give yourself the gift of reprieve. Scheduling additional time off can be accomplished without comparing your actual production to your high ideals. Focus on your potential, not your limits.

Last night I fell asleep at my desk and slept right through until about 5:00 am without talking to Mom. I missed talking to Mom and it made me mad at myself. I know how much we both share our need for talking and sharing what we talk about. So, thinking I had maybe an hour extra to prepare for my morning, I organized and did some typing. Is it typing or texting when using a personal computer instead of a typewriter? I don’t know. Typing. Texting.

At about 6:00 am, I started to make coffee and ate a dried out hot cross bun from last night. I was still dressed, but I decided to change my outfit to match the coolness of the morning. A pair of slacks and a long sleeved shirt were what I found to wear. I then decided to take along my bathing suit just in case the weather improved enough to tan. Then I looked at my feet. They were swollen and bright red in colour. Not good.

There was a little sample bottle of body lotion on my night table. I liberally spread the thin white cream all over my burnt areas. My feet were first to get an application of cooling cream. Then, I paid attention to my legs and thighs before I buttered up my face and neck areas. I didn’t know how good the thin white cream would be but something was better than nothing.

It was 6:30 am when I felt the first pangs of needing to go to the bathroom. I made my way from the desk through the kitchen, dropping off an armful of things along the way. When I turned on the bathroom light and sat down, two cats vied for attention. Dory was first but Twister was more important, so I coaxed her in to lay on the mat at my burning feet. I have to say that my attention was divided between two cats and my urge to purge.

At about 7:15 am, I finally finished combing and petting cats besides cleaning up myself. I didn’t know what the time was. I did know that I was way over the time I had allowed myself as extra time to spare. I sat down to my desk when my phone rang. It was Peter who phoned to find out what I was up to and where. I told him that I was late and had to go fast. He told me I should have left fifteen minutes ago and to get a move on. I already had a move on and was about to dash now. Bye.
I went as fast as I could go up to the General Hospital. I knew where I had to go and how to get there. I rolled straight up to the crowded waiting room of the module I was supposed to be early for. I didn’t even know what time it was when I registered as present at the reception’s window. All I do know is that within a few minutes, I was called into the testing room. Within five minutes, I was back out and done with the breathing test as it is applied to me. There are no sounds, no prompting, and nothing untoward to set me off. That nurse is so kind and understanding, at least to me after my latest tale of woes I told her.

The breathing test usually is a complicated measuring of your breathing process that takes about half an hour or so. Repeated testing is done over and over with the very loud prompting by a female’s high pitched yell. I can’t do that. It sets off my rage and I have to bash something as hard as I can. It scares everyone when my eyes turn beet red and I start shaking with surges of pure adrenaline. It’s war. Do you want to play again?

I admit that I have had a life that nobody would possibly want. I know I have trouble sleeping because of buckets of sweat and bouts of kicking and swinging arms. Peter knows he is safe as long as he doesn’t move from his prone position at his side of the bed. I can’t get help because I would be committed at the least and imprisoned likely. Peter doesn’t want to lose me nor do I want to lose him. Oh well, I try as best I can to keep the peace quietly.

Peter and I played a game of crib to start the morning off. I had lost the two previous games and was ready to win a game. The crib game went very fast. I skunked Peter, who groaned and moaned about the loss. So, we played a second game of crib. Would you believe that I skunked Peter again with a double skunk score. Peter was not happy at all about the two losses in such a manner. I smirked a bit but merely asked Peter when had I ever beaten him like that before. His reply was that I had done so a few years before out in Vernon when we crossed Canada. By then, it was time for us to go to my appointment at the other side of the hospital.

We both climbed onto our electric wheelchairs and left the ward of four beds. It was a short trip to the appointment so I was able to stop along the way for a smoke. Peter patiently waited for me to do my thing. Then we rolled on to the sixth floor where the appointment was. The receptionist was kind and smiling as she did the paperwork for my appointment. Within a short time we were sitting in room 7, a spacious examination room for doctors with wheelchair bound patients.

Our doctor was a short little timely woman who bubbled over with positive energy. She was into a lot of local projects that were intended to help the poor people of the downtown area. Fortunately for her, she was able to enlist help from various media to further her intentions of spreading word of the help by the program she funded.

Our inspired little doctor was bubbling over with positive affirmations of various aspects of health motivated facts. Cut down and even quit the habits of drinking coffee and smoking. Change diet to avoid salt, sugar, and starch based foods. Most over the counter drugs are not helpful for the reasons why they are taken in the first place. We already knew that, but she wanted to say it as if for our benefit anyways.

I had numerous aliments that needed to be addressed, but not by her. There were other professionals in the health industry that were more likely to be of use to me in attending to my ills. There wasn’t much use she could be to us in helping us cope with our COPD afflictions. Perhaps she could see us in a time of about three or four months from now. With that said, she handed me two forms, one a prescription for a referral to a specialist doctor and the other a form to get an appointment at a later date.

I should have made a copy of my morning breathing tests. It would have told me that my breathing had shrunk 400 ml less than the last test at Christmas time. The tests also informed me that my breathing was operating at about 59 % of what would have been considered normal for my lungs. My breathing was actually not all that bad considering that it was my back causing me most of my disability.
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