Rain rain

    I know what you're thinking, but no, I'm not complaining about the weather. I'm not exulting about it per se either, but I am exulting. I'm exulting in the freedom not to go out during a flash flood watch. And it occurs to me that what was stressing me out so much the past few years was not my dad's condition but the fact of dialysis. Dialysis is not flexible. Anyway, dialysis isn't flexible for you. If it rains, you go. If Margaret's yard is flooded, you go. If there's a flash flood watch, you go. So the past few days of flash flood watches (and for that matter, flash floods) have been sort of delightful to me in the sense that I had the option to stay the hell home. I'm starting to think that I don't have PTSD from Dad's death but from the darn dialysis.