Mr. Murphy rides again

Happy New Year-slightly late, but...that is because Murphy and his bloody law struck again.

I was (and am) so happy to see the back of 2015; in fact, I'm happy to see the back of the last six years, which were six of the worst years of my life. It was six years ago that I first heard the word "pseudomonas"-when I was told I had developed it. And life just got worse and worse-and worse. But, as you know, I fought very hard to get my health back, even though some things will never be the same again (my life, for example).

So I finished all my infusions, and medical stuff for the year, and on the 30th (Wednesday) I met two friends for our last meal of 2015-a vegetarian lunch, in a restaurant they visit several times each week. I swear, they must have cast iron stomachs-or perhaps I was just unlucky. On Wednesday night I started feeling really, really sick: chills, fever, sweats-I had food poisoning. Before the other symptoms kicked in, I had cramps-and enough gas to launch the Hindenburg. I thought my stomach was going to explode (I really have to stop watching reruns of the Alien movies).

Now, I was supposed to go to a small house party on New Year's Eve, and I really wanted to go. However, my stomach had other plans. Fortunately, my apartment is so small that you can get to the bathroom from any other room in less than a minute. That was really a stroke of luck.

So there I was, sprinting from the bedroom to the bathroom all day-but I had some stuff from the pharmacy for just that problem, and it turns everything in the system to concrete. Take enough and you won't have to do anything for three days. So I took several capsules, and I was feeling better when my friend came to pick me up. I had a really good time, too. We all reminisced about the year (I did my best to stay out of that conversation, I can tell you). We had really lovely food, some champagne at midnight, and I was dropped off at around 2am.

Well, I did say Murphy's Law. And I didn't say that the capsules only work for a certain period of time, when, as it always happens, what goes in must come out. All day yesterday I waited for something to come bursting out of my stomach and start running around the room (Alien again. Bad me). So, although I was laid up on New Year's Day, I just looked at it like-it's a hell of a way to end the year! And if that is the worst thing to happen to me this year, I'll be extremely happy.

I wish you all a wonderful 2016-without food poisoning, too. No more vegetarian restaurants for me!
I suppose you could call that a New Year's resolution...I haven't done those yet, since I always end up breaking them before the first week is out. I'll think about it, though.

The most I've done is to delete a lot of people from my address book. I think I'm at the stage where I don't want negative people in my life. Who needs people who constantly throw cold water on every idea, whose very presence makes me depressed, who get off by putting me down? I had that: it's called marriage.

So now, I am going to have some fun. I've spent six years in survival mode, and I have finally reached the point where I can see that there is light at the end of the tunnel-and it isn't an oncoming express train. Of course, I thought the same thing last year-but that was a false start, preparation for the real thing. It would be really helpful to be more optimistic. I'm working on it.