September 24, 2023

Joyful dinner party with Jeff and Sharon last night. I made pork roast with root vegetables, ratatouille, and a maple cream pie. The pie looked to be a failure ot every stage of its development, but turned to be delicious. We talked, of course, about old times, and the people we knew then, and what has become of them, agreeing that, all in all, the three of us have held up pretty well. We asked ourselves who were the “cool kids” back at Ellet. It might have been us, but I think the part of the blessedness of that company was that we did not have a social elite, nor that gang that goes around tormenting the weak or odd. At least I don’t remember them. Toward the end of the evening my weariness transmuted into waves of pain, part ungodly exhaustion, part universal inflammation like a bruise and a burn at once. I bade my friends goodbye as I realized it was phlebitis, my old nemesis, and I began gobbling the drugs. That was about 10 PM. From then until 3 this afternoon I was in considerable pain. I never understood exactly what causes the pain of an attack; the bacterium surely can’t be striking every nerve at once. I’d gotten to the drug soon enough that it was a brief attack, and didn’t exhibit all the usual stages, but it was so painful I cannot call it “light.” I rose up a dozen times to urinate vast quantities, more than I could ever have taken in. Where was I retaining all that liquid? In the afternoon it eased up so that I could actually sleep. Now, evening, I’ve made it up the stairs, but I know the affliction remains because I can’t type two words without making a mistake. Beautiful, perfect autumn day while I was writhing under the blankets.