I think I’m going to live.  Antibiotics  are doing their job.  I’m going to see how I feel at 11:00 and if I can, go get my hair done.  If not, I’ll look like a witch for another week.  I haven’t been out anywhere for a week unless someone drove me--and then only to the ER.  I think getting my hair done would be a good picker-upper.  

. 

The cleaning ladies are here...praise the Lord.  It has been six weeks since they came last.  Thanksgiving, sickness, etc.  I spilled the paper shredder junk on the floor when I tried to empty it--and just left shredded paper all over the floor.  I looked at it a couple of times, but decided it was doing no harm and left it.  It wasn’t in a pathway.  That’s how weak I was.  

I haven’t picked at the cuticle skin on my nails.  Never again.  I am a new creature.  Repentant.  Reformed. You can quit a bad habit if you are motivated--and brother! am I motivated.  I don’t ever want to be this sick again.   I would think to myself: “I’m just going to pull this little fragment of skin--but sometimes it would bleed.  Most of the time I got away with it.  But last week, I didn’t.  I got a wake up call.  Pat said it was a suicidal habit.  I have decided to agree with her.  At least it is for me because I have lymphedema in that arm and any cut, or opening in the skin is a danger.  Like I said.  I’ve repented.