Silent Scream

I have a battalion of physicians, nearly as many as my health insurance has under contract when I start counting noses. And I need all of them because I am very much out of warranty and have discovered like the boxes of Cheez-Its that I love to eat even though I shouldn't 'some settling of contents in transit may have occurred.' 

Batteries of lab tests have indicated I'm anemic (I needed NO lab tests to know I was pathetic), though I sort of knew that without benefit of tests or medical school from just how exhausted I am very nearly all the time. As I've understood my hematologist, the anemia is closely related to my stage four CKD (cousins as opposed to brothers and sisters I'm thinking). 

I'm in bed most nights by about a quarter after eight which was a treat when I was a seven-year-old but not so much now when I'm in my seventh decade. If they make yawning an Olympic event, you'll find me on the medals podium struggling to keep my eyes open (and probably failing). As it happens, yawning is a bit more complicated than you (or more especially me) might have first thought.   

Simpleton that I am, I see yawning as my body's way of telling me my battery is at twenty percent. Or it's a silent scream; I can't decide which.
-bill kenny