Half asleep but getting there.

I am sitting here half asleep and I know that if I write something it will be the cure to wake me up completely. I have already had two cups of coffee and they have not done their job yet. I was on Facebook  and could not make sense of it at all and leave no comments that were sensible. Usually, if I do such an inwardly turned thing as write a blog post, I do much better, and quickly gather the scattered bits of my mind together to form a cohesive whole. I can do a job that requires no immediate interaction and is of a solitary nature.

 

Outside it is stormy, but I think it is because we are about to have a change in the weather. It is supposed to be much nicer this weekend. On Sunday it will even almost be like a little bit of Summer, but just very briefly. Everyone in the country is looking forward to this day and I hope our hopes are not dashed.

 

I read the letter from the doctor who did my gastroscopy that I have to take to my GP. It was in an unsealed envelop and clearly not meant for me not to read. There were also color photographs of the procedure. In it, it says that I have mild hemorrhaging gastritis (irritation of the stomach lining) and I can see that on one of the photos. I can also see the three polyps of which one was removed for a biopsy. In the letter it also says that other tissue was taken for a biopsy and to await the results of this.

 

I thought that was all very interesting and I am clearer on what is wrong with me now. The fact that I have gastritis does not come as a surprise to me, but I thought it had been ruled out. I think that doctor downplayed the facts to me in the talk she had with me after the procedure. She probably thought I was just an ordinary sort of woman who would not understand medical terminology. I understood everything in that letter and will let my GP know this too.

 

There, I am wide awake now and fully functioning, though not wanting to be disturbed by Tyke who constantly wants me to retrieve his tennis ball from underneath the sofa or the armchair. I think he puts it there on purpose to get attention. I never claimed he was not a smart dog. At least I am awake enough to immediately get the walking stick and get the tennis ball out from underneath before he starts barking. It is not the time of night I want the neighbors to wake up.

 

It is Saturday and I am oh, so happy about that. I can do as I please again. I have a couple of chores to do and, of course, cultural television to watch in the morning. I must not neglect the intellect.  It needs to be fed like my body does.