Tag Archives: illness

There is a Serious Crack in My Foundation

24 Jul

and I don’t like it one fucking bit.  I’m feeling something I almost can’t even talk about.  It’s so awful I literally found myself completely at a loss for what the hell to do.  I’m a fucking little, innocent baby deer in headlights.  What (I asked myself since I’m the only one here…) in the SAM HELL is going on????   What’s wrong with me?  The synapses in my brain (due to fight or flight primal reaction) are firing and it hits me like a Mack truck..a Mack truck straight out of Mad Max, people – I’m feeling..accckkk….vulnerable.  Really vulnerable.  

Living Dilbert is rarely vulnerable and sure as hell doesn’t discuss it (except with Life-Saving Therapist who helped me figure this out – again), yet here I am filled with angst.  I fight deep feelings more often than I care to admit. Good news (I guess) is that apparently I am actually human and not always the superhero I project.  First, Main Squeeze is out of town for 8 days and being home alone all day AND night is new.  We haven’t been apart that long, but God knows MS needed a break and so deserves this vacation.  Today my sandal got caught on a rug while I was watering some plants and I almost seriously busted my ass.  Based on my knowledge of geometry and physics, it would have been REALLY BAD.  I most likely would have broken several ribs and I doubt my still healing neck would have had a party either.  It was so damn close, but I managed to save my ass.  Fine, it shook me up.  There, I said it again.   Please keep reading…

Ok, the real reason for this unsettling crack in my foundation?   I got some rather unsettling news the other day that dropped my jaw to the floor because I let myself get all comfortable with life and it’s been a few months since I’ve had a bone-jarring crisis.  I need another spinal surgery…my 4th, if anyone other than me is keeping count and my 3rd in a year.  I went through the five alleged stages of grief in 24 hours.  I cried all the way home (which kind of sucked because I was by myself and driving), I bargained with God, I denied it, then I was furious and the next day came acceptance.  I even wondered if God is testing me, but then thought that was selfish of me.  In plain English, it is what it is.  It is life, which can be so messy, yet wonderful too. My surgeon apologized and said she REALLY does not want to operate on me again and told me it’ll hurt like “last time.”  At least she’s honest and she’s compassionate and I do love and trust her.  She’s a damn rock star to me, yet so humble – a rare combination in a surgeon. I’ll admit the last one (posterior cervical disc fusion) hurt like a mother fucker. I cried, I nearly puked, gritting my teeth and the morphine pump didn’t cut it.  I had to really work to get through the days without losing my shit (figuratively, not literally).  Living Dilbert does not poo in hospitals.  I’ve learned that when they dissect through really important muscles, it really hurts to relearn to do stuff like, uh, USE YOUR ARMS.  I guess they’ll take part of my right pelvis out this time since they used left last time.  My back/neck are starting to look like a 3 year old on an Etch-A-Sketch. Frankly, I’m weary.  I am just healing from the last two and I’ll have to start all over and it’s scary.  There…I’m having feelings.  I lost my career. Life is very different now (but great in some new ways, like making a special new friend in all this). Stuff I never imagined.  I know there are others out there too.  Talk to me.  Tell me your story.  I’m actually considering a group therapy thing, but for this…I think I’d need to start it myself because there isn’t a “scoliosis survivors group” – I’ll have to come up with a better name than that.  I wonder if they’d mind if I said Mother Fucker a lot?

So, there it is. A touchy feely, yet painfully honest post from me to you. I just had to get it out, but damn if I didn’t fight this realization like an animal caught in a trap – kicking and screaming, but the more you fight it, the worse the pain. LST has worked hard to teach me my feelings won’t kill me and she is right, but sometimes it feels they will. Thanks for reading this one…it’s a bit long. I don’t want to lose more readers. I want to awe and delight, but be honest too.

I do feel I’m being led in a direction I don’t quite understand yet and I don’t like not knowing.  All this is causing a shift in me…I can feel it.  I think with great loss, comes the opportunity for great growth.  So, even though I seem to get shorter with each damn surgery, I’ll grow on the inside. 

Love – LD

H1N1 and How I Tried to Catch It

22 Apr

I know this sounds awful and I mean no disrespect to folks that have honestly been affected by H1N1, but I did try to get it.   When the hysteria was at it’s peak, I saw people in my building wearing those masks to help keep out germs.   Not me – I’d so much as hear someone cough and I’d try to stand by them.   If any of my friends coughed, I’d tell them to please go to lunch with me so we could drink out of the same glass.  If they had a sore throat , I’d insist on hugging them and giving them a tiny kiss on the lips.  I told one friend to cough into an envelope and mail it to me.   Hell, even Bad Boss got sick and came into the office.   I considered licking one of the binder clips he had touched.  Why?  Because being sick is a valid reason to be away from Bad Boss.  You know he doesn’t like to give me the day off, so I find myself trying to get sick in order to justify my absence.   Sadly, I never even got a cold last winter.  

Being sick IS a valid reason for missing work.  I envisioned myself lounging around my house or just sleeping for 3 days straight.  When having a horrid day at work, I sit at my desk and daydream about it.  Best Friend offered to rub a Q-Tip over her sweet dog’s rotten gums and hand-deliver it to me.  Not sure what I would have done with it, but maybe I could have put it in a cup of tea and let it steep and then drink it.  Sweet Doggie had chronic gingivitis.  He was constantly on antibiotics, but sadly rotten mouth was just in his genes. 

Fifteen years ago, while young and much more impressionable and while working for a failing business, Bad Bosses surprisingly wanted me to fly to DC for the day.  For the DAY, people.  I hate trips like that…flying out at 5:00 a.m. to race to a meeting and then fly home at some ungodly hour.   No thanks.  Had already done the same trip to NY a week before.  I knew it was a matter of time before they went under, but I wasn’t prepared to get fired just yet.   I had to concoct a plan.  Was in a relationship at the time with a Goody Two Shoes, so my “illness” had to be believable.  Can’t believe I’m admitting it here…but, if you ever need a truly believable illness…go to your local pharmacy and buy yourself some Ipecac.   Fine, I did it.   Holy crap!  Took a little dose at 3:00 a.m. before my trip and in a few minutes I looked like Regan from “The Exorcist.”    Trust me, no one will ever question you if you are projectile vomiting.  

Oh, the measures I have taken in life surprise even me at times.  

Tomorrow – My Life as a Gardener