For the entirety of yesterday, I believed that it was Friday. I wrote in yesterday's post that I hoped to get out early this morning for some grocery shopping ─ but I stated so only because I just accepted that it would be Saturday morning.
When my younger brother was not home last evening by 8:30 p.m. from wherever he had gone to drink, I was not going to become entangled with him in having to sit up and operate our T9 Android 8.1 TV Box to watch episodes of any of the T.V. shows that we follow.
Yet I did not wish to go to bed too early ─ I have exceeding difficulty falling asleep.
So I remained up and carefully watched for him to finally arrive home. That arrival event was to occur not 10 minutes before 9:00 p.m., and I was into my bed by 8:54 p.m.
An hour later, I rose and turned on the ceiling fan in the hope that it would help me fall asleep, for I was still wide awake.
I do not know how much longer I lay in nearly hopeless wakefulness, but sleep did finally arrive. When next I was awake and curious on the time, I peeked from beneath my bandana blindfold to discover that the beside lamp on my wife's side of the bed was on.
I cannot remember when she last was home to spend Friday night in our bed, for she usually spends her weekends somewhere in Vancouver and does not even come home after working Friday at her friend's Thai restaurant.
It was something like 12:28 a.m.
Was she downstairs, then? And what of my brother ─ did he finally go to bed after getting himself home?
It was affirmative on both counts. I had not yet brushed my teeth, so I rose and dressed and then collected my toothbrush and went downstairs for some coconut oil ─ I brush my teeth with the oil, and usually spend around 15 minutes in the thorough process, after which I expectorate the oil into the compost bin if it already has material within it; otherwise, I select a different area of the lawn and spew the oil onto it.
It is bad practice to just spit the oil down the drain, for ultimately it will contribute to clogging somewhere along the line in its transit to wherever waste water ultimately ends up.
And I choose different areas of the lawn when I spit there because last year I was only using one general area, only to find after the Winter snows had gone that the oil had essentially burned everything away and left just barren ground.
That sered area is still trying to recover. Apparently oil is oil, and plants cannot survive being drenched in it ─ even if only with small amounts on a nearly daily basis over a long period of time.
Anyway, I came downstairs to get some coconut oil and then lie on the chesterfield in the darkened living room while I brushed my teeth. My wife was having a snack at the dining table, and aptly observed, "You up?"
I was still brushing my teeth when she went upstairs to freshen up in the bathroom before going to bed.
Once I was done and rid of the coconut oil in the compost bin outside, I came upstairs here to my computer and got to work adding content into the post I am working on at one of my six hosted websites.
It was just past 4:00 a.m. when I returned to bed. I knew from the time I rose in the midnight hour that I was not going to be going shopping in the early morning, so that plan had long been dismissed as being even remotely enactable. Instead, I intended to try and sleep as much as I could.
It is never easy for me to sleep. I of late seem to find it especially difficult to find a comfortable position when I first go to bed.
I was to sleep in a few blocks ─ that is, broken sleep. And by 8:00 a.m. I felt myself to have eked out all the sleep I would be easily able to obtain.
Nevertheless, I lingered a half hour or so before rising.
At times since my return to bed, I had thought that it was raining outside, even though I wear earplugs. Perhaps the ceiling fan helped lend that illusion.
Maybe even the sounds of my brother's laundering contributed to that mistake, for the laundry facilities are directly beneath my bedroom.
I wondered why he was laundering on a Saturday ─ he usually launders on Friday mornings, but did not do so yesterday. I chalked it up to him perhaps having forgotten. I had almost asked him about it yesterday, but I chose not to.
Whatever the case, I rose this morning and gathered up my clothes, and then came here into the room where I keep my computer ─ the room is immediately next to my bedroom. My brother had the T.V. on downstairs ─ something he never does as early as that on a Saturday, for he has the Saturday morning edition of the Vancouver Sun that I subscribe to that he always reads on Saturdays as he drinks his morning coffee.
Was it possible that the newspaper was not delivered, for whatever reason?
I forget now just what it was that ultimately got me suspicious about what actual day of the week that it was, but I decided to look at the corner of my computer where the time is displayed...and sure enough, I saw that today was Friday.
For well over a full 24 hours, I had been living the wrong day!
And of course, realizing that fact made sense of all the small mysteries. No wonder my wife spent last night here ─ it was commonplace for her to do so after she worked her Thursdays at the restaurant.
So maybe I can get out grocery shopping early morning on Saturday after all.
I suppose that it was nearly 9:00 a.m. when I discovered what day it really was. I remained here at my computer until nearly 10:00 a.m., and then I went downstairs to fix up my day's first hot caffeinated beverage, and to join my brother in the living room and put our Android TV Box to use.
My wife soon rose thereafter, and was away on her long drive to work within the hour.
She is unlikely to be returning until the weekend's finish.
When I rose during the midnight hour last night, I came upon an article published just today that told of a protocol for treating serious COVID-19 infections that is not being given due attention despite a better than 98% recovery success rate.
Granted, only a little over 100 patients have undergone the treatment, but of the two who did die, "Both were in their 80s and had advanced chronic medical conditions".
Believe me, if I or any of my family do end up with a serious COVID-19 infection that is life-risking, I will demand the MATH+ protocol ─ to hell with this mainstream nonsense that persists in touting that only something a pharmaceutical corporation can concoct is the sole solution permissible or even somehow conscionable!
You may not care to delve through the somewhat technical article nor to even bother watching the 14-minute video prefacing it, but at least keep this treatment in mind ─ the article I came upon is at Mercola.com and titled COVID-19 Critical Care.
If interested, you can also check out website COVID19CriticalCare.com: Frontline COVID-19 Critical Care Working Group │ Our MATH+ protocol saves lives • So why isn’t the world using it?
As well, there is this 17-page .pdf document at EVMS.edu: EVMS Medical Group │ EVMS CRITICAL CARECOVID-19 MANAGEMENT PROTOCOL.
One of the five physicians promoting this treatment is familiar to me ─ Dr. Paul Marik is known for his highly successful sepsis treatment that most hospitals still ignore, preferring (it would seem) to have patients die rather than employ a treatment that is not 'standard' (even if it apparently works).
Well, I must stop blogging for today ─ it is already approaching 6:30 p.m., and I still have to tackle the day's exercising session.
I managed to get in some sunning this afternoon following a very short nap. It was 3:09 p.m. when I sat low into a deck- or lawn-chair while I was attired in just a pair of gym shorts. Facing directly into the Sun, I spent just over 40 minutes out there in the backyard.
There was considerable light cloud, but not of sufficient density to ever make me feel as if I was wasting my time. From what I understand, we are to have some rain over the weekend, so that was my last sunning chance for at least a couple of days.
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