Wednesday, Jan. 12, 2005
Dear Diary:

The spousal unit and I were sitting companionably in the living room last night, he with his Harper's me with the latest issue of The New Yorker.

I looked at him over the top of my reading glasses, watched as he raised his coffee cup to his lips. "That burning rash is gone now," I proudly announced.

There was a slight choking sound as his sip misfired.

"What every man wants to hear," he said drily.

There was a pause.

"How's the itchy discharge?"

It was my turn to choke on my hot beverage. "There was no itchy discharge," I huffed.

"I know," he teased. "It just seemed the sort of thing that would go with a burning rash."

So yeah, today I'm feeling a lot better. I still have some joint pain but it's so low that I've stopped taking the extra strength Advil and I'm just living with it. My knees and ankles are the worst. The only time it gets intolerable is if I do a deep knee bend to look deeply inside the fridge or something like that.

Thus, the heart of the fridge will remain something of an enigma to me, the heart of darkness. Considering the amount of fresh produce I buy each week yet somehow fail to totally consume, this is not a happy state of affairs.

Oh well, as long as the spousal unit opens the fridge first, whatever grows in there will grab him. I'm sure it will happen so fast he won't even feel a thing. He's had a good life. I can't feel guilty about this.

You know, the spousal unit has been extraordinary through all this. Extraordinary. I mean, we're like most long married couples, we snit, we grump from time to time, we have perfectly unreasonable arguments that involve massive amounts of eye rolling.

But he said sitting there in the emergency ward of the hospital, watching me sweat with the pain, the heart monitors going nuts every time I got whomped, made him really look at the possibility that I could die.

When I got the preliminary all clear but the order to stay in the observation ward for some final tests, I sent him home to get some sleep. Going back to our empty house for eight hours while he waited for the final results of the observation and tests gave him time to think about what his life would be without me. And in the meantime I got to think about how it would have been to have to deal with something so terrifying without him.

We are more mindful of each other. I think this is a good thing.

But I'm still perfectly willing to have whatever weird organism which might grow up in our fridge grab him, of course. I love him, but I still believe in Darwinism, thank you very much.

--Marn

Mileage on the Marnometer: 8.38 miles. Booyah

Goal for 2005: 1,250 miles - 2000 kilometers


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