sábado, 27 de junho de 2020

Version 2.054

I had my second counseling session today, so I took the afternoon off, since I did not know how I would feel emotionally. My homework is to go over cognitive biases and see how my thought processes might relate to those. We all have cognitive biases, but, in my line of work, I have to spend 40 hours a week doubting myself to make sure that I have done my job to the best of my ability. Some people's jobs entail building; my job is about building and destroying, until I cannot think of any other way of continuing the cycle within the allotted time frame. And perhaps because I spend a third of my life living it in such a duality, I like to keep the other third that I am awake easy, which is not how most other people operate.

After my session, I went over to my neighbor's to show her a pair of shoes that I had just bought, since I could not decide whether I wanted to keep them or not. I thought the size and the scale of the shoes were good and they were also not uncomfortable, but one wonders what is the point of buying shoes with a pandemic going on? One wears shoes, regardless of the viruses that live around us. So I am keeping the shoes.

My neighbor's mom agreed that I should keep them. We then lingered in her bedroom while she rested in bed. She struggled with getting comfortable and her facial features contorted in pain, but she did not want to eat and she drank very little fluids. It seems clear that she was in pain because she was literally starving herself. Three times she asked me how she ended up like that -- she thinks she is in a hospital or a nursing home. She does not remember that she is home.

The last time I was in St. Louis I almost died of food poisoning. I had gone to a conference for work and during the drive over there I started to not feel well. I managed to go to dinner with Henry, my coworker, but at some point I began to deteriorate and told him that I did not feel good. He drove me back to the hotel and I got into the elevator and proceeded to throw up on the trip up to my room. Then I had to come back downstairs and tell the front desk what I had done, which made me feel terribly guilty, despite the kindness of the staff. I returned to my room and went to bed. For two days, I threw up and slept and I could not even hold down water.

At some point, I looked out the window and saw the Arch of St. Louis. What a great view, I thought, and I may not make it out of here alive. In hindsight, I should have gone to the hospital, but thinking about it was too difficult, so I just stayed there. Things started to improve when I decided to add packets of sugar to the water. If the water was sweet, I could drink it and not throw up. Funny enough, the street where I lived back then was called that: Sweetwater Way.

After drinking sweet water, I graduated to eating fruit and that is often the food that gives me comfort when I am not feeling like eating. I asked my neighbor's mom if she wanted a fruit smoothie, but she declined. Then my neighbor thought of making a protein shake and her mom actually took a few sips. Her demeanor improved so much that I told her we needed to get her to eat some fried butter, like they do at the Texas State Fair. She looked at me as if I had fallen from the moon and then smiled when she realized I was joking. That was the highlight of my day. It wasn't exactly a joke; I was actually thinking about alternative ways in which to maximize her calorie intake. When I left I told my neighbor that tomorrow's breakfast should be that protein milkshake. We shall see how the day goes...

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