I wonder if I had monkey feet....

Last weekend....

I lie in bed.
On my back.

Arms by my side.

Eyes closed.

My arms begin to drift into the much-desired, temporary relief - an internal low vibrational whisper, like a light massage to my nerve vessels.
My arms begin to feel less heavy and less inflamed.

The medicinal herb is again working its magic.

I open my eyes and observe my hands as I hold them in the air above my chest.
I slowly move my fingers one at a time, touching each finger-tip to the corresponding thumb-tip.
I close my fingers attempting fists but not quite succeeding.
Still, my fingers are more flexible than fifteen minutes ago.
The pain upon straightening out my hands is a bit less too.

My thoughts drift, as I think about my limbs - present and future.

Why have my arms and hands been so exasperated this past week? 
I must have done too much with my hands. 

But it's not "too much" for someone with normal limb function. 

I don't know if I can make it until January 5. 

I guess I can call and move up my appointment. 

I just have to decide if the benefits of moving up the steroid injections outweigh the side effects. 

The side effects were evident in my recent tests at my physical.

I close my eyes.

I slowly inhale.
I slowly exhale.

The relief is welcome.

My thoughts drift.

My feet have been worse too, but not as bad as my arms and hands. 
I wonder if my feet would be ailing more if I had to bend them and use my toes the way I use my hands and fingers, like how a monkey has to use his feet?

I wonder if I was a monkey, if my feet would be in as bad a shape as my hands right now?

I wonder if I was a monkey, if the nerve damage would affect my tail? 
That'd be awful, if it disabled my prehensile tail.

Good thing I'm not a monkey.

I chuckle.

I have a new description for the tingling pins-and-needles type feeling that sometimes comes around.
My fingers sometimes feel like tiny little electric worms are wiggling and sparking.

My mind sees the tiny life forms, all colors of the rainbow like tiny little gummy worms, squirming and producing little electric sparks.

They look so bright and cheerful, all in my fingertips.

Another chuckle.

Now how can I better describe the bamboo or hollow metal feeling in my forearms where my radius bones are? 
It feels more like bamboo than hollow metal - strong yet flexible. 

Tiny little Mario men strap themselves with heavy duty ropes on opposite sides of the bamboo reed in each forearm. 

Each little mustached man in his colorful overalls and cap with knees slightly bent, presses his feet against his side of the bamboo reed as he holds onto his sturdy rope and leans backward straightening his back and then relaxing.

Each side of the bamboo has a row of tiny Marios pushing and pulling. 

That's what my forearms feel like. 

Must be all the inflamed nerve tissue trying to find space in there.

....I don't recall now if I went to sleep after my thought-drifting or if I sat up in bed and played Sudoku.

A song for ex-Wayfers....

This is hilarious....
(Note: the song is not about The Way, but it could apply!)

Folk Uke - "Mother F***er Got F***ed Up" (warning:adult language)

Checking in....

Well, obviously I'm not blogging regularly.
I'm not doing much of anything on social media.
I'm not writing much either.
I have been reading online, mainly news.
I have watched some videos online, mainly news.
I read from an actual book this week, turned the pages and all. It felt good.

And here I sit looking at this screen wondering what to share, if anything.

[Carol pauses to think of something short to share.]

****

The past few weeks I've watched quite a few ISIL propaganda videos, including all the videos by John Cantlie (the British hostage) and the beheading videos. I couldn't watch the actual beheadings; I had to close my eyes during that part of one of the videos. I also read up on Jihadist "John" and the other "Beatles."

My responses have been...
...unspeakable and unbelievable horror.
...anger and fight.
...anxiety and fear.
...the videos accomplish ISIL's goal of fear propagation.
...this shit is scary. Not only the beheadings, but the professional videos as well. The propaganda videos may be more scary than the beheadings themselves. The material is presented in such a professional manner as if to give the subject matter some sort of respectability. The one video, that contains the beheading of 15 to 18 Syrian soldiers, with its music and slow motion and film shots, paints the scenario as an art form. As the viewer watches the scene leading up to and after the beheadings, the scene doesn't feel real; but rather, comes across like a depiction of a novel or barbarism from past times. It seems staged...like there would have been rehearsals to get such good footage. But the stage is real life, real time, with real men being led like sheep to slaughter.
...I agree with France that we should call these thugs Daesh instead of ISIS or ISIL.
 ...I think Daesh exaggerates their numbers and power. That doesn't mean that we should ignore them. Hitler started small.
...Daesh is repeating what mankind has done for millennia...murdering in the name of a so-called greater cause.
...Worst case scenario: the Borg assimilates. Not all would comply; some would die. Some would go into hiding. Eventually, the Borg would implode or be overthrown. History repeats itself.

I don't want to promote any Daesh videos, so any readers will have to do their own google searches.

***

Well, I didn't plan to write about that stuff.

My health isn't well right now. My next spinal injections are on January 5, if I can make it that long. 'Til then, I'm managing the best I can.

To life and breath...and star shine....