sleep: not perfect, but slightly better

One thing I absolutely cannot do right now is to lie flat on my back: anything that stretches (or spasms) my pectoral muscles remains painful. Getting up from a reclining position is also painful. From what the docs say, it's going to be like this for another couple of weeks.

I initially tried to sleep with my torso at an incline, but I discovered I was much more comfortable if I could both incline my torso and raise my knees—as if I were still in an adjustable hospital bed. I've since bought pillows via Coupang to help me find that posture again; I have most of the ones I'd ordered, but the huge back pillow won't be coming until this Saturday. I also need something to raise my coccyx away from the bed to alleviate pressure while I sleep. At the hospital, I was given two small "ice pillows" that both kept me cool as they melted—one for each butt cheek. In my studio, I'm using rolled-up tee shirts, and it's not the same thing. I might have to buy more pillows.

On a more positive note: maybe it's a hallucination, but I seem to be rising from bed with a bit less difficulty. This could simply be a consequence of having found a more tolerable sleeping posture, or it could signify real improvement.

My brother David is my guardian, but the way this works out is that he stops by only every once in a while: I don't see him for most of the day because he has to work remotely for his company. We ate lunch and took a short walk together yesterday during a break in the rain. Today is a fasting day for me; yesterday, when we attempted to walk to the Paris Baguette down the street (the one in my building is being renovated), I discovered that this other branch is very small, and it doesn't stock any salads, so I had to turn around, walk back to my building, and buy salads from my building's basement-level grocery. It's not bad stuff, but the salads are a wee bit more carby. That said, yesterday morning's blood sugar was 118, so I can't be doing too badly. If I keep my fasting glucose below 120 over the next few months, my A1c will be below 6, which would be fantastic news.

And when it comes to food prep, it looks as though I'm going to be dropping the monthly routine of cooking for the troops. I view the prospect with a mixture of relief and disappointment: I genuinely like cooking, but I also need to focus on healing. A side benefit of not cooking so much is that I can save a few hundred bucks a month.

My Korean coworker came by yesterday with a thumb drive containing files to allow me to work from home. I might start doing that today if I have the energy. The boss says we're at a point in the year where I can afford to back off and rest for a while, so it's also tempting just to rest. Not much else to do, then, but to concentrate on things like sponge baths (no showers until my thigh stitches are out), housecleaning, shaving, and getting a haircut. That, for the moment, seems to be the small, contracted  circle of my existence.  And maybe that's enough for now. No walking today, but I will be fasting.

Oh, yes: I did spend a good chunk of yesterday evening dealing with another giant loogie in my chest. Breathing hard meant a lot of rattling; hawking was no good because each hawk produced a countervailing spasm that was just too painful. Eventually, the phlegm monster got coaxed to the top of my airway, and I was able to spit that sucker out, but it look a long, long while. Today, thus far, I'm clear (knock on wood), and I look forward to the day when I can cough and hack to my heart's content without nasty jolts of pain. Just another few weeks, I hope. Nothing is forever. Less pain will mean being able to sleep in a properly reclined position, and I'll be able to cough at my leisure. Finally.

I've heard rumors, nothing definite, that my buddy Mike might come to Korea for a visit. If so, it'll be good to see him, but I know he's got family and work obligations, so I'll understand if he can't make it out here. My buddy Charles is coming over this coming Saturday to feed me a home-cooked vegetarian meal; he's a great cook, so I'm looking forward to this.

And the wheel of time grinds on.

David, Jeff, and Sean, just before Sean and Jeff left for the States

The pillows and covers tell the story of how I'm currently sleeping, tucked in a corner.