care, cats and traction

i find being ill interesting. for one, i pay more attention to my body, and it responds. for example, not being able to breathe through my nose, and working to find out which sinuses require pressure to relieve the situation, even temporarily. i treat myself with more care, and remember things like gentleness. rubbing my neck while waiting for soup to heat up, i learn how to let my neck rest without the weight of my head applying nasty pressure on misaligned vertebrae. this is a solution i do not remember from previous experiences. i hope i remember it when i rejoin the ranks of the quote-unquote healthy.

it's not just about learning, though. illnesses are fun. if i sound crazy, it's because i visually hallucinated over a stool in my bathroom today (the stepping kind, not the toilet kind). also, copious amounts of cayenne - fun and effective!

another surprise was falling down (only three) stairs yesterday. that point goes to the illness. i experienced shock and fear, of course, but i think i processed it right away; the release of trauma seemed manageable in one sitting (i was sitting alright - on the landing). have i finally learned about traction on hardwood? probably not.

as i gingerly continued down the stairs, the cat shot me a concerned look. yes really. i can tell her looks. they encompass (though are certainly not limited to) satiated, frantic, 'i'll pretend i didn't see that', irritated, affectionate/doe-eyed, affectionate/cold, trusting, don't-fuck-with-me and hungry/uncertain.

speaking of cats, i realize i am of that ilk. for many people this probably comes off as ridiculously obvious, but while i have always loved cats, i now see the cat in me.