Monday. A bit of excitement last night. I was working to see if I couldn't scrape together a full section of the Castro Street Fair photographs at around four in the afternoon when it started to get chilly. Since it was still overly warm outside, I wondered about it for a moment and put on a heavier shirt over the t-shirt I was wearing. Started to shiver. To cut to the chase, a full bore case of the chills took over, getting into the tub at that point an adventure, the hands, arms and body shaking. Cold, cold, cold. It took a full hour to bring my body up to temperature in the bath, dreading getting out wet and toweling down, but it went reasonably well and I crawled into bed and pulled up the covers. Later, of course, it bounced between hot-cold, hot-cold. As I said, an adventure.
I think this has happened once or twice before, severe chills that lasted for maybe five, six hours, a night's sleep, feeling pretty much normal the next morning. This morning. No other symptoms, no runny nose, no nothing. Just chills. Godzilla chills. Life is weird and one day life is going to be over, but not today, please.
To breakfast and the papers. I've been having trouble with the breakfasts in that I'm having trouble finding anything on their menu I would like to eat. This is a “traditional” American breakfast, overly large, everything fried, cholesterol up there with the clouds. So I kind of pick around the edges. Country potatoes, but a half order and then leaving most of them on the plate. Eggs now and again, even though they often don't taste quite right. Quite appealing. This a function of that stomach operation, I think, when my taste buds and appetite went all to hell.
The waitress brings me a sliced orange and a mixed cup of melon pieces - watermelon and canteloupe - and that's OK, but even they occasionally offend my palate. I'm able to eat the toast, dry, but sometimes with jelly. No butter, although I have nothing against butter except the usual. What's happened here, I don't know. I wish they had cereal, something I often eat later in the afternoons at the apartment, but otherwise I can't think what I'd like them to add to their menu.
So, a new week starting. Some indication it's going to reach eighty-five degrees today, ninety-five tomorrow. Where is that coming from? Our springs and falls are often warmer than our summers, but ninety-five toward the middle of October? I guess that's not unusual, I can't even remember when or how many times I've had these chills within the last year, not hard to think I wouldn't remember the when and where's of past decades of temperature.
Later. An amble down to the local ATM and back, a slow amble. An old man's amble? Or just a phase, upset with the way the days are going, trying to think of a way out. Many traps in getting out of a funk. So many false avenues. Still, even with a false avenue, just the change alone pumps you up. But we've been here before, I think I'll attempt a nap.
Later still. About two and a half hours of naps. Naps. We'll assume they're needed and this isn't going to go on forever. I'm wondering about the allergy meds, though. They probably weren't causing this particular problem, if this is the same problem. Happy to have stopped them as the lungs have been good, a little congestion now and again, but even with the congestion no big deal. Chills and naps. It all seems to come together somehow.