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Archive for April, 2012

in no order, with parallelism problems. (reference: I’m an unwilling participant in this)

  • When I have to walk, only taking steps of a couple inches.
  • Watching movies about genocide to keep it all in perspective.
  • Rubbing different things on my feet/hands. So far: moisturizing lotion, tea tree oil, hydrogen peroxide, anti-fungal cream, white vinegar, apple cider vinegar, coconut oil, pistachio nut oil lotion.
  • Plunking my feet into a basin filled with: hot water, cold water, white vinegar, white vinegar and hot water, white vinegar and water that is now cold.
  • Here are some ideas I’ve had for an advice column or essay about it. Coxsackie Chronicles. Hand, Foot, and Me. I Only Call It Sheep Pox. Coxsackie My Ass (Not Yet!). First It Comes for the Foot. Vinegar, Probably. This Rash Called My Sole.
  • I’ve managed to prioritize fascination and attention. No spots on my mouth at 9 pm. Three on the inside of my lower lip by 11. Top of my mouth soon after. 25 at 2. Look forward to the next count.
  • Counting, my foot propped up on the couch just so, one to one hundred, four times through until the pain and itch transforms from a feeling to a thing–a gritty toothed animal with sand for fur–I can watch with time.
  • Freecell, but only easy games with aces near the top of the stack.
  • Drinking pitchers and pitchers of water, room temperature, each sip and swallow delicious and sufficient.
  • When it’s time for ibuprofen (the only medicine there is), a couple spoons of ice cream straight from the carton. It tastes so good, better than ice cream usually tastes even, but then the sugar hits the raw spots and it burns. Just enough for pills, then more perfect water.
  • It’s hard to take detailed pictures of your own soles.
  • Trying to tally up who I may have infected (I was asymptomatic for three days and have been to the store since the initial fever) and how to avoid exposing others short of quarantining myself for five days. How it would be to quarantine myself.
  • I’m not even trying to sleep yet. The animal would keep me up.
  • At 2:30 I suddenly feel terrible that I’m using Rwanda, Somalia, Sudan as a distraction for my medical issues. As a measure of how little my suffering is.
  • My landlord/housemate handled this well: “so I’ve been careful since I figured out what it is, but I know I’ve touched things in the last couple days, so if you come down with a sudden fever . . . “
  • Every couple hours I change my socks. I don’t need to, but it feels proactive.
  • Infinite Jest stuff.
  • Gratitude: I don’t have Wednesday’s fever. My throat was substantially worse yesterday. No congestion, no headache, stomach and sinuses and so many other systems working normally.
  • In three minutes I will: hobble to the mirror, count what’s new in my mouth and hands; pause The Devil Came on Horseback; refill my water bottle; eat three spoons of stinging sweet ice cream and chase it with my new water; swallow pills; pick new socks, probably the bamboo ones, worn and fuzzy; think of all the things I forgot to put on this list but not edit it; and come back to this couch to prop up a foot and count, and wait.
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