It was, I think, the third, perhaps fourth wheelbarrow load I’d pushed out from the barn to the manure pile. I was nearly there when a thought popped into my head:
“I feel better.”
Just that: “I feel better.”
I’ve been suffering from digestive problems for several months now. Stretches of decent health have alternated with stretches of more or less considerable misery. A colonoscopy is scheduled for mid-January to see what the heck is going on in there. In the last week the misery has ratcheted up and expanded its repertoire. Going once again from solid food to clear liquids , yogurt and jello, and starting a new course of ciprofloxacin has done little to relieve the current discomfort.
So the sudden irruption in my mind of “I feel better” was surprising. I thought about that thought as I dumped, returned to the barn and continued mucking. Given that the belly discomfort was still niggling at me, it seemed an odd thought. And yet, it felt right. I realized that, for the first time in a couple of days, I wasn’t tending (or fighting the tendency) to hunch over protectively. Wasn’t wholly wrapped in a dull fog of inward focus.
Now, some several hours later, I continue to feel as if a measure of misery has dissipated. Oh, there’s still enough of it bubbling in my gut to tell me things are not right, but incremental progress is better than none, eh?