It’s technically the day after that weird day., but of course, psychologically it’s still that weird day.

My day (Thursday 5/9) began at 8:50 am when my levothyroxine timer went off. I took that tiny pill, and then dosed off, I woke up a half hour later with nausea. That made the fourth time this week I became nauseous after taking that thyroid hormone. This is kind of worrying me. The nausea is relatively new. I hope it’s just that I’m not taking enough water to dissolve the pill properly. Sounds plausible, but I am not a medical professional.

I dozed off trying to calm my stomach and overslept a little. I made coffee, got dressed, took my thermos of coffee and two bananas, for breakfast, and headed to work. I had to call and tell the manager on duty that I was running late, but was on my way. I was nauseous all the way to work; I had to force myself to eat the bananas.

I calmed down a little at work—enough to realize I hadn’t checked for messages from one of my best friends whose dad was in hospice. I saw she texted at about 7:42 am that her dad, “…was gone.” I choked up a little and hoped she and her remaining family were hanging in there. It’s an unsettling set of feelings when a loved on who has grown deathly Ill finally dies and one of the main emotions is relief—relief that the loved one isn’t suffering any longer. Then the relief can intersect with guilt—guilt that you are experiencing relief. It’s a very unsettling cycle. Unsettling and perfectly normal.

I’ve had my own experience with losing parents after lengthy illnesses. I understand what thoughts might be traversing their brain cells. I’m also sad because I can’t immediately be there. My friend lives about two hours away, kind of near Tampa, I am having my knee replaced in six days. I am frustrated that I cannot stop that train that left the station in October. So, I am keeping the communication open. I don’t even know what time my surgery is happening and I haven’t gone to a pre-op prep that might even include getting a chest X-ray. I’ve had two surgeries in which such an X-ray was sprung on me at the last minute.

I just wish I could be there reliving the tales of her father’s humor. He was a very funny, down to earth guy. His twisted sense of humor was passed down to his kids and I am happy to say I got to experience that gift directly and indirectly.

So, much sadness is hanging in the air. I’m thinking about them a lot.

I will call my friend later on Friday. I wanted to give her, her mom and her brother some time to be alone, and deal with their feelings. I know when each of my parents died, I had to kind of take time after I alerted those people in my life who cared. My friend who just lost her dad was one of them. Sometimes you just have to take a break in the communication.

The day was weird also because it was my last day of work for three months because of my surgery and recovery. Honestly, it felt like my last day of employment there. I have this sense that my life is going to take a turn to more meaningful employment. I’m just glad I’m getting short term disability money. It’s not a full check, so I have plans to work a bunch of side hustles and explore paid writing opportunities. My work day just had this odd vibe, and my nausea never completely went away.

That all this was happening on the hottest day of the year, thus far, added a dose of annoyance. I hate hot weather. Apparently a few temperature records were broken in Central Florida.

On my drive home my car indicated that the temperature was 99 degrees when I left work and 101 when I got home. Usually, once the vehicle is moving the temperature drops. Not today. I’m sure the heat from the asphalt skewed the numbers. My WKMG Channel 6 weather app said it was 96 degrees—just 4-5 degrees less hot. The humidity was a low 36%, but to me the humidity level during hot weather is immaterial. When it’s this hot and wet it feels as if the steamy air is pushing sweat out of my body. When it’s this hot and dry, it feels as if the air in my lungs and the energy in my muscles is being sucked out of me as I bake in an oven.

Speaking of annoyances, one of my Facebook friends, who I do not know in the 3-D world, left a comment on one of my posts about today being my last day until August. It pissed me off, but I didn’t bite his off, even if he deserved it. He asked the ignorant question of how I can afford to be unemployed for three months after the surgery. Wow! Really? Isn’t the answer fucking obvious? Walking, and exercising, and having a high quality of life is way more important than struggling for those three months. What a horrible point of view, that only the well off deserve to have healthy functional limbs. It also pissed me off because if he fucking cared enough to comment he would have seen my many mentions of getting short term disability and working from home. Never once did I say I was going to be unemployed.

It’s 2:30 am. I’m exhausted, but sad and antsy. I have a pre-surgery blood test at around noon later on. It’s a fasting test so, I have roughly one hour to eat anything. But, I think I’ll go upstairs and try to unwind, and hopefully, sleep

I’m hoping my friend and her family are able to get some rest. I know it’s been a surreal day for them.