Dear John,
If yesterday was a smashed kumquat, today was a hail of ripe persimmons. Growing up where you did, you were probably never in a persimmon fight, were you? I'm sorry - you missed so many joys of life!
Abby was spayed today, and is back home sleeping it all off. I took her in at 8:15 and picked her up at 4:30. Except for half an hour for lunch, I slept all the time she was gone. I lay down on the couch with a blanket and an NCIS marathon, and slept like a rock. Jethro and Hunter joined the mammal mound and slept with me.

All in all, I'm in good shape for the shape I'm in. Cymbalta is a selective serotonin and dopamine re-uptake inhibitor - it's enough victory that I'm still breathing and not institutionalized. I've only thrown up twice today, though I have a suspicion the number will change soon. I slept without nightmares today. And my vision is getting better. So there is progress. And every day that ticks off on the calendar is progress. As I've said before, it will go away and I will still be standing. The brain zaps have been a bit less frequent since I started fish oil yesterday. And I have the tremendous, amazing blessing of a boss who understands. I'm too shaky to be worth much typing anyway. Another day off work is possible tomorrow - we're under another weather advisory. We're expecting another few inches tonight, but the big thing is the wind, and warnings about blowing and drifting snow. The driveway is disappearing under new drifts. I don't even want to think about another round of shoveling!
Thank you for listening to me whine. I'm trying not to, but honesty is indistinguishable from whining at the moment. Thanks for listening, anyway. You always wanted to know the truth about what was going on with me, and I know that hasn't changed. Now would be a good time for you to petition for me to join you soon!
Love from your overly-tough, overly-stubborn wife,
Joan.
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