Huh.

It would seem that health things are still improving. I'm not sure if it's real or not. Sometimes when you want something very badly you can make yourself believe in things that aren't there.

I dreamed that Simon called a family meeting to tell me I was pudgy. I told Simon about this when I woke up, and he asked, "Was it a happy dream?".

Ummmm, that would be "No".

Yesterday was a marathon day. Simon and I are sharing a car, so I drove him into work at 4:30, then came home and took a little nap, and then got up and made lunches for everybody, breakfasts for everybody, got everybody up and into the car and drove to Baltimore. Dropped the Boy off, drove back, stopped at Trader Joe's on the way, stopped to let a friend's dogs out, stopped at home to let my dogs out, went to pick Wayne up, came home, showered, went to work, then came home to take care of chores and kill a bunny.

See, we've acquired a Jack Russel sometime between that post I didn't write about moving into our new house and that other post I did write about not posting posts. He's a hoot. He does all the Jack Russelly things, like hunt, dig, and chew things that squeek. This has enabled him to find a rabbit's nest in our neighbor's yard, dig under the fence to steal a bunny, then, umm, damage it. Damage it, but not kill it. You should know, baby bunnies are notoriously difficult to raise because you have to have a grown up rabbit available to provide poops to feed the baby so you can culture their stomachs with the bugs they need to digest grass. Gross, but true. So not having a grown rabbit, or a way of treating the damage that Bingo did to it, I decided a quick death would be better than a slow one.

It is remarkably difficult to dispatch a cute, helpless animal. I don't mean difficult as in tricky to manage, I mean heartbreaking. Disturbing. I'll spare you the details and hope that you never find yourself in the same situation. That said, I found myself in the throes of inappropriate humor last night, humming "Kill the rabbit" and imagining new nicknames for myself. A dear friend who moved away used to call me Amy the Atheist, but I suppose I can expand the moniker to Amy the Atheist Bunny Killer, which makes me seems fearsome.

The latest good news is that I seem to have found Simon a granny car. It's a 96 toyota with only 78000 miles on it. Woohoo! We'll see if that pans out.

Boy is now at his other family's house, playing with his other sisters and brother, getting to know another set of parents. I'll have to devote a post to this subject soon. In the meantime, we miss him already and can't wait to have him back.

Workin hard or hardly workin,

ephelba

Changes

I haven't even looked at how long it's been since I've written. It doesn't matter. I've spent what seems like a couple of years eeking out a life between naps and more naps. It has been rough.

I have seen Doctors. Very few abnormal lab results, and none of them really helpful. Most frustrating is Doctors telling you that most people who have chronic fatigue feel better within 5 years. In five years the Bean will be 10 and the Bug will be 8. This is not encouraging.

I have been trying to raise children. It is a hard job when you're in the best of health, and when you crave sleep like a hoople head craves whiskey, it's really hard. You do not do the best of jobs.

I have been trying to be a wife. I have not been doing enough of any of the wifely duties, and it breaks my heart to know I'm breaking Poppy's heart.

I have not had nearly enough energy to even try being myself. Do men experience this? I don't know. Maybe men just don't talk about it. I only ever hear women describe it.

I have always been trying to find relief. When we couldn't find a cause, I resorted to just finding relief and began using Nuvigil. It's the latest and greatest medical answer to amphetamines. It has been of limited use to me, because whatever resources I'm low on get used up when I take it, and I have to recover, but it did give me a day or two at a time of normalcy.

Lately I've been trying something new that seems to be working. This week I have gotten so much more done, so much easier than I have in ages. I have enjoyed the company of my children. Their cute-ittude and preciosity are completely overwhelming. I had no idea that teenagers were cute, but the Boy is every bit as cute in his own way.

It tears me up. I keep missing out on things because I'm sleeping. I watch the life I wish I was living pass me by.

I wish with all my heart that this is the end of this nightmare.

ephelba