Thursday, May 22, 2025 - Day 282

Thursday, May 22, 2025

Good morning!

My day starts the same way it has for years: come downstairs, brew the first cup of coffee, and take my pills while it’s perking. Simple routine, right? Not so much these days. Lately, dropping pills has become part of the ritual. And let me tell you, once a pill hits the floor, it bounces like my shots on a pool table. You never know where it’ll land.

So I turn on the kitchen lights to full spotlight mode, count the pills still in hand, and hope the missing ones aren’t hiding too well. Usually I find them, but when I don’t,,I have to set up a Bear blockade—because if he eats one of my meds, that’s a whole new emergency.

Once spotted, the next challenge begins: how to pick them up without bending over and landing sideways. Since my hand pinchers are on permanent strike and bending over risks a full-blown face plant, I resort to Plan B. Slide the pills together with my feet until they’re close enough to trap under a glass—like I’m catching a rogue spider and waiting for Cindy, the more capable exterminator, to show up.

And yes, I do briefly question the hygiene of sliding pills across the floor with my feet. I think the 5 second rule no longer applies here. But at that point, I’m just grateful I found them and didn’t end up stuck on the floor yelling for help. With the pills safely under glass, I move on to the next daily challenge: getting my coffee to the fireplace without spilling it on the white rug. This task gets harder everyday, it’s like I’m a high jumper and somebody is raising the bar each morning…looking for the failure point. Well, so far, so good.

Yesterday was one of those cold, gray, damp days—classic “Lake Michigan in May” weather. Rainy, mid-50s, and that stubborn wind coming in counterclockwise off the lake. I didn’t want to go anywhere, and I didn’t. After the emotional high of Tuesday night’s livestream and a short night’s sleep, I was wiped. It was a perfect fireplace-and-nap kind of day. I read for a bit, nodded off, and repeated the cycle all day long.

After an early dinner around 5:00, I went fishing for something new to watch on YouTube. We bounced through a few of their suggestions, but one video stopped me—Sixteen Tons, written by Merle Travis in the ’40s and sung by Tennessee Ernie Ford. A heavy song about coal mining, but it stuck with me.

Throughout the song, there’s this steady rhythm of finger snapping. It took me right back to when I could snap my fingers and Bear would come trotting back to my side, ears up, tail wagging. It was such a simple, quiet command—and now, just another thing I’ve lost to ALS. I tried snapping again as I watched the video, just to see… but nope. I can’t even get my thumb and middle finger to line up properly anymore.

But—small win—clapping still works. Bear’s caught on, and now comes, sometimes, when I clap my hands together. So I am adapting. That’s the name of the game now. ALS keeps taking things away, and I just keep finding workarounds.

If you want to watch the Sixteen Tons video, here’s the link:
youtu.be/hjmdEBgsu…

Between naps, I finished Winter Prey and started Night Prey, book #6 of 35. Today’s another chilly, gray one, so I may squeeze in some more pages—but warmer weather is coming, and that means reading outside or other things. Yes! I’m hoping to finish the whole Prey series in 2025. (Still no clue who’s been sending them, but I’m not complaining.)

Time to get some breakfast and get back to the book.

Have a great Thursday.

Love you guys! ❤️