Monday, Bloody Monday

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Good weather today. Cold overnight, clear blue skies once the fog lifted.

I had a long session with my doctor (GP) to discuss test results and the next moves. Although the tests did not indicate any solution to the night sweats, I can cope with this, although it will much harder to manage and more intrusive when Bob returns on Wednesday (Yay!).

Another issue which significantly affects my quality of life was discussed with some candor and at some length. It was here that we realised how much my condition had deteriorated over the last 10 years, and that I had been eating a normal diet then. I'd almost forgotten about consideration of normal food. Upon a fairly blank response to "How would you like to eat a normal diet" (shrug of the shoulders accompanied by an "I'd rather run" look on my face), he quickly added "and be able to run". This did provoke excitement. I felt a little overwhelmed with the options today, even though they had been on the table in some form for a few years.
Major surgery would be involved, but then the medications I take in attempt to aemeliorate the symptoms of the current condition are not without their problems, and such extensive use over a long period is entirely unknown.
Instead of arranging it then and there (like I usually do), I suggested that I talk it over with Bob when he returns on Wednesday (Yay!). I rang Bob afterwards, just as he was breakfasting to fill him in on the important bits while I had them clear in my mind. I forget things quickly, and know from experience how important this is.
The rest of the day is a bit of a blah. I felt a bit blank and frustrated, then changed for exercise. I was a bit dipsy, because I found that I was half dressed for cycling and half for running. I didn't know what I was going to do. Changed into running gear, with a CR tri top and arm warmers to take the chill off during the first part of the run. Planning a bushland ramble, I headed off, only to be cut short within 500m by the very issue we had been discussing. Unable to continue, and not having dosed up, I skulked home feeling pretty shitty about it all.
So - no exercise that counts today - vacuuming, cleaning the wood-box, blah blah blah.
Bob sold his phone tonight, so is out of contact until he hits Australia again. Probably a good thing because I might look for sympathy. Spoke to Aki tonight to arrange a before class jog tomorrow morning. Unfortunately it means an early start, but it is too good an opportunity to pass up. I really enjoyed talking to her, and it was the fillip I needed. (I guess 'fillip' is a word?)
Too much to do, wood to bring in, cat to feed, clothes to arrange, bed to make.
Note to self: remember to take tablets tomorrow morning on waking.
fillip \FIL-up\, noun:
1. A snap of the finger forced suddenly from the thumb; a smart blow.
2. Something serving to rouse or excite; a stimulus.
3. A trivial addition; an embellishment

transitive verb:
1. To strike with the nail of the finger, first placed against the ball of the thumb, and forced from that position with a sudden spring; to snap with the finger.
2. To snap; to project quickly.
3. To urge on; to provide a stimulus, by or as if by a fillip.

If any one in Mirgorod gives him a neckerchief or underclothes, he returns thanks; if any one gives him a fillip on the nose--he returns thanks then also.
--Nikolai Gogol, "The Tale of How Ivan Ivanovich Quarrelled with Ivan Nikiforovich"

[Y]ou may take your coffee of a morning in the little garden in which he wrote finis to his immortal work -- and if the coffee is good enough to administer a fillip to your fancy, perhaps you may yet hear the faint reverberation among the trees of the long, long breath with which he must have laid down his pen.
--Henry James, Collected Travel Writings

[I]nflation can always give only a temporary fillip to the economy.
--Friedrich Hayek, "Can We Still Avoid Inflation?"

Her raspberry cream tart is given an added fillip with bourbon and nutmeg.
--Marian Burros, "Cooking," New York Times, June 3, 1984

The utopian and romantic -- and in the end completely unrealistic -- idea that the building should serve as a mooring post for airships led to the creation of a tower on the tower, giving a final fillip to the design.
--Nathan Glazer, "Miracle on 34th Street," New York Times, December 3, 1995

You fillip me o' the head.
--Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida


Fillip is probably of imitative origin.

2 Responses to “Monday, Bloody Monday”

  1. Blogger CJ 

    FD, are you planning on doing a longish run this Saturday. My program has me doing 2hr 30min or thereabouts. Maybe we could get together for a run followed by a restorative coffee or two (cappuccino for me; long black for you!) Maybe Aki as well?

  2. Blogger Sarah 

    Look after yourself ducky!!!!

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