A Small Thing
Over the last several months doctors have poked and prodded in almost all the ways a person can be poked and prodded to determine the status of various systems. Routine processes in most cases. All have checked out. I am in good shape for a man my age. Tell that to my nasal passages, however, who have decided now is a good time to drip and run, blow and go. I am a tiny bit upset.
Of course, I will get over it as I almost always do, and I have years of experience now in how to shorten the torture. But still, I feel compelled to heave a deep sigh and wonder why? Not enough sleep? Poor nutrition? Not enough exercise? What? What? What? I wish I could lay my finger on the single cause, but I’m afraid it's all for naught. I am trapped in my reactive role.
Of course, I shan’t let this get me down. It’s not the deepest valley I’ve traversed. Nor will it be the last. And I feel relatively well these days, just a tiny bit tired, and I needed something to write about, and this was it. So, off I go, wiping, wondering, trying to look at the bright side of life.