Mornings with only half a brain have become an amusing daily event for me--probably not so much for my family. My confusion and disorientation are the worst then, so everything is a little off. Things like trying to put on clothes--trying to remember what I used to wear and what goes where!--are much trickier than they ever used to be. A lot of the coordination comes back with time and with--surprise!--coffee. But when I wake up I frequently don't remember where I am or even--in the first half hour--what has happened to me, and I start careening around the house, knocking things over, crashing repeatedly onto the floor, and generally horrifying my saintly family. They have always been later risers than I, and my new medication regime only makes my sleeping patterns worse. Insofar as my espresso dependence was always my traditional workaround for morning dementia, trying to figure out how to get this stuff to come out right has been a real priority.
Yesterday my fiance and I indulged in a high tech Jura espresso maker that I can manage--that's the thinking, anyway! --on my own. I'm having my first cup now, and it is very nice. Espresso is one of the special things that I really look forward to as part of my day--it's just part of the ritual order and rightness of things. But this has not been easy, either. It's the "simple" and "perfect every time" devices that you really want to throttle manufacturers for.
2 comments:
Dear Laurel, I'm drinking my next cup in your honor. And reading all three of these 11/23 posts, I'm thinking that somehow you've come out of this as your self, only somehow more so. Sort of like the espresso version of Laurel. And that's seems like a pretty good thing.
I am with jf on this one (Hello, Professor!). And did I see the word "fiance" in your post? Congrats! I am very honestly happy for you. I know that I can be bitter about love, but I don't know where home would be without Sven.
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