Lou is coming down with something. Or he's getting rid of the thing he'd come down with. I haven't checked with him yet this morning for an update.
His condition got me thinking about my health over the past two and a half years that I've been living and traveling in the Rolling Steel Tent. I had some bronchial congestion somewhere along the way, and maybe a fever or two. But no flu—at least not that I remember. I think that's because I spend way less time in crowds. I'm less likely to catch something if there's no one to pass it along. Ah, the health benefits of reclusiveness.
Back in pre-van days I started having little attacks of vertigo. If I turned my head after being in bed a while, the room would start spinning. WooOOooo! Sometimes it would happen if I got out of bed quickly. That stopped happening.
In my pre-van days I developed a case of trigger finger. The middle finger of my right hand started locking up. But the trigger finger has gone away.
My left knee has gotten worse, though. The muscles, tendons, ligaments or whatever complain when I go up stairs, and they try to give out on me when I go down stairs. Good thing there aren't that many stairs in my life these days. But the knee calls attention to itself when I climb in and out of the van.
My eyesight has been holding steady.
The tinnitus and my partial hearing loss don't seem to have gotten any worse. But deterioration could be so gradual that I don't notice.
I've gained a few pounds. I need to nap less and walk more.
Fortunately, I can live this vagabond life without the limitations of a chronic disease. Knock on wood. Though my father and I didn't get along all that well, and we had totally different approaches to life, I seem to have inherited some of his good health genes. He had no medical problems, other than his appendix, until he was in his 80s. All the fresh air and sunshine I'm getting might help, too. Somewhere down the road my health won't allow me to do this anymore. In the meantime, roll on. Or walk on.