Hopefully it won't look like this on the Day of my Kidney Transplant.Sarah passed all the tests including a psych eval. Now she's knows what her mom has gone thru since age 38 when I was diagnosed w/manic depression.
And what a blessing it is my illness went away and I no longer need present myself to a shrink to be assessed for signs of mania or depression.
Steadfast on my kidney-healthy diet, I had a delicious lunch today:
- a new concoction of grated apple and carrot salad, with a handful of Craisins (dried cranberries) and chopped almonds, blended with cider vinegar and olive oil.
- chick pea salad w/elbow macaroni (you little darlings!) and chopped celery, onion, chives, green pepper, doused w/mayo and mustard.
My breath emits strong fumes!
I am in a mania of trying to publish some of my work, ever since my short story "A Woman of Substance" was accepted at an online journal. "We like it a lot," wrote editor Bob Rothberg. My self-esteem about being accepted is so fucking low that I roll around around that phrase over and over again.
Little heads pop up on the yellow schoolbus outside my window.
My sciatica was killing me this morning over at Scott's. The bed is the worst place for me. When it aches, I say WALK RUTHIE WALK. The pain abates. When The Who filled my living room today I began dancing for the first time in many months. Dancing connotes loss of anhedonia from sciatica woes.
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