Not Quite Lost Days

Ellie and I drove to the Grove Street Boat Ramp/Fishing Access Site (hereinafter the "Goose Poop Area" or GPA) to get our last bit of exercise before the storm that is forecast for this evening.

Ellie roots around in our primary GPA

This sort of thing surely must have birthed the English phrase "mucking about." Our trip was a sort of test. A week on the Baclofen now. 5mg, three times daily is definitely out. It was heaven on the weekend, because I spent three hours napping each day. At work, well, they are lost days. I look at something, mention it to my coworkers, who inform me that we've already discussed it. They jog my memory, I remember it, then an awkward silence or disgusted look. 5mg, two times daily still seems to be leaving me a bit slow.

However. After our very long walk in squishy, mucky ground, I feel the spasms in my legs again. Due for a dose even as I type. If I get through the weekend without pain and with sleep, it will probably be worth the trouble of trying to figure out the proper spacing for the dose. Or maybe another dose altogether.

More later.

pb
Little Pond