The past week has gone very well except for one as yet unexplained and not very menacing development: Despite the fact that I had slept soundly and long on the nights that preceded them, Thursday and Friday were days on which I struggled to stay awake. Both days I didn't succeed in fully waking up until late afternoon.
This left me pretty useless on those days, especially useless for work on my treatise, but there don't seem to have been any long term consequences other than this hiatus in my work. So my focus as far as sleepiness is concerned will be on discovering the cause in order to keep it from happening again. For the moment the cause is a complete mystery, but my doctor at VNS Hospice is on the case, and was so even over the weekend.
But enough about me, what about the famous patient in Walter Reed Hospital? I have to admit that news of his condition continues to gladden me. Yes, I know we should all be hoping for his swift and complete recovery, but I can't ignore the positive effect that reports about his condition have had on my frame of mind and therefore, surely, on my own campaign to prolong my productive and enjoyable life as long as possible. And my concern about his having contracted covid-19, slight as it may be, is surely as great or greater than any concern he has shown about 7 million other Americans having contracted it. (He thinks: Heck, they were mostly old folks anyway, and a lot of them were Democrats living in states that were already blue and therefore states not in play in the election. I don't think many of them have been Republicans living in red states---or at least not many will be Republicans in red states until the second wave hits, by which time my glorious re-election will have been accomplished through patriotic measures that successfully suppressed voting by unpatriotic persons.)