Mold

 In the past two weeks, I've taken on a time-consuming experiment.  

Years ago, I discovered that I was highly sensitive to mold.  I'd been having body aches consistently--so much so that I suspected I had fibromyalgia. A fortunate accident revealed that the space between the foundation and the floors of my house were infested with mold.  I'd left the AC off during one of our scorching summers when I was out of town, and a leak had occurred while I was out of town.  The floors were buckling so badly that you could literally trip on them.  

I moved out of the house for weeks while the floors were being replaced, and when I came home, I felt so much better.  The mysterious ailment was caused by mold.

Since my foot pain began, I have tried every course of action I know of--including the installation of a spinal cord stimulator.  But every day, when the pain takes me back to bed at almost exactly 11:00, I try to think of one more thing that could work.  

I had all the air ducts in the attic replaced after a worker spotted black spots on the registers in the ceiling.  Anti-mold agents were sprayed into the tiny attic that's barely a crawl space for a small man.  I slept in the casita while the work was being done.  I talked to my pain management doctor who wasn't on board with my theory, insisting that I had neuropathy caused by an injury.  

But I couldn't let it go. 

Here it is 11:00 and I'm going back to bed, unable to stand any longer.  I had started a book and got the first step done and felt, as I do every day at this time, like Cinderella at midnight.  

I'm glad the mold is gone and the pipes are new, but the effects of it on my feet have not been impressive.