I got THE Call
No, it wasn't at church. C'mon, guys! You know, I haven't been to church in like 3 years, except for 2 special occasions which I paid dearly for. No, I'm talking about THE Call, the one I've been waiting for for months now, and that y'all keep bugging me to fing out about.
My surgery has been scheduled for April 10th. Now, the news gets even better. Our tax return is going to be pretty good this year, so it'll pay for my surgery. I'm hoping it'll even pay for all three of them. Anyway, I'm stoked, or at least, yeah, ok, I am, I'm stoked. This will probably just be the first two surgeries that I need. The third one, I think has to be done in the hospital at Davis or something. That's the one that'll do the most good, where they put the electric buzzer in my brain and it rattles all the messages and mixes everything up. Just the news I need.
Now, I'll probably stop thinking about that other thing that's bothering me, becuase this will give me two weeks to rev up the anxiety about getting the surg done and I'll start obsessing about this instead. That could be a very good thing. It helps to repress if you have something else to replace the fear/anxiety/ptsd flashbacks or what have you with something, anything else. This is big enough it might just work. Unhealthy, you say? So. If it works, what the hell do I care how healthy it is or not? Couldn't be worse than what I'm going through right now, eh?
Alright, so, pencil it in. April 10 is the big day, 9:45 am. Pray, think nice thoughts, light a candle and insense or eat some chocolate or do whatever it is you do to get your particular higher power/god/goddesses' attention on that day at that time. You guys rock. Thanks. Don't know how I'd get by without your encouraging words. Seriously.
Ok, I'm going to go back to being quiet again. Back when I get over my funk. Might be sooner than expected with this news, eh? :)
Oh, btw, the book is coming along. I have the plot outlined, and I'm working on the research and writing the prologue. I wrote the first chapter, too, but didn't like it, so I'm going to rewrite it, again. lol
I know, I've been really quiet lately. It's not you, it's me. I haven't wanted to talk to anyone for at least a couple of weeks. I'm going through this psychological/emotional thing that I wish I could blog about, but I can't. Too many people know me and read this frikkin' thing, now, so if I were to talk about this certain thing, everyone I know would know and I don't want that. There are some things that you just don't want to share, you know?
For lots of reasons, I want to keep this thing to myself, sort of. The main one is that I don't see the point in telling my nightmare and then it's in someone else's head, too. That's so not cool to do. If you've ever known someone who's gone to war, or something like that, then you'll know what I'm talking about. They don't talk about those experiences either. It's not to shut out the other people in their lives, it's just that you don't want those people to have those images or thoughts in their head all the time like you do.
Well, that's how I feel about this certain thing. The only thing I can figure is that I must have some kind of anniversary around this time of year, but because I blocked this thing out of my head for so many years, I have little recollection of when it happened, so I really don't know why it's bugging me right now, but it is.
Another reason for keeping this to myself is that I don't want people to think of this certain thing every time they look at me. That would suck even more than the thing! So, it really isn't anything I can discuss with anyone, which probably makes it worse, because then I only have myself to "talk it over" with and of course, nothing really gets solved that way. Ah, well. I've been here before, so I don't want you, my pals and friends, to worry about me. It will pass, it always does. For whatever reason, it just happened to hit me harder this time than it has in at least three years.
So, until I work through it, or successfully repress it again (tee-hee), I may not be on here a whole helluva lot. It also means, I'll be pretty quiet, like, maybe if I play dead or stay really still, the Monster can't see me and will leave me the hell alone? I dunno. Either that or maybe it'll just blow over like a season, like allergies or something.
I'm not depressed really, but I'm just not feeling like communicating. Mostly because I've got this on my brain so much that it's just better if I don't talk and I just find other things to think about and concentrate on, keeping my mind so busy that it won't have time to spend on dealing with this problem or analyzing it. So, give me a couple more weeks and I'll be back in good humour again, and I'll try to think of something interesting and clever to say, like, "Hi, I'm back" or something equally as awe-inspiring.
Until then, I want to ask you for a favor. Will you check out Medecins Sans Frontieres and, if you so feel compelled, will you please donate to them? This group is not a SCAM. They really are a wonderful bunch who are working their butts off to make the world a better place. Lemme tell ya, anytime I've met one of their docs, I've absolutely loved them and felt that I was getting the best care in the world. Too bad we can't make it a requirement for docs to have to do a stint with MSF for 9 months in order to graduate. They'd learn humility and compassion real fast if they did. Here's the addy, but you can also click on the title to go there:
http://www.msf.org.au/index.shtml The greatest needs that I can see are in Somalia right now. It's tragic what's going on out there right now. Of course, the middle east and Eastern Europe are in great need as well, but Somalia's the main one right now. they really need more funding in the Ivory Coast, the Sudan and all over Africa. Thanks for doing this for me. :)
It's Not a Monty Python Sketch
Because if it was, it would be funny. Instead, it's my life. Ok, so still waiting to hear about when my surgery will be scheduled. Insurance hasn't yet approved it and they're making a stink about paying any of my bills, citing that I owe them some paperwork, which they have, twice now already. I'm going to have to deal with them and that pisses me off, because I've already done all of this, twice already! Grrr. I think this is called an anti-climax, but since my life is life and not a book, that doesn't really matter. The ggod thing is that I'm not in horrible pain right now. The sinus infection is gone, so are those headaches. So, the raise in meds worked. It makes me fall asleep at the oddest times, which would be funny if I was like 90 y/o! But, at 33, the joke tends to be lost on most.
I finished the writing class. I know y'all have just been dying to read my posts again, right? lol Alright, don't everyone jump up at once. So, now I'll be freed up to write a little more often, but still working on the novel.
I have something to say to, well, everyone. Now, don't look at me that way. I know I always have somethign to say, but if this was a Monty Python sketch, which it isn't, (just in case that wasn't obvious already), I'd be saying, "And now, for something completely different!"
I don't know about you, but growing up, I always learned about all these artists like Edgar Allan Poe, Andy Warhol, the Beatles, and about a million other dudes, (why is the list all male? Hmm. Interesting), that they were on drugs. E. A. Poe took cocaine while he wrote The Raven; or Andy Warhol was on LSD when he painted; or the Beatles were on (fill in the blank with drug of choice)___ while they performed or wrote their music. Bull shit!
It took me 3x as long as the other students to finish my damned assignments because of these freakin' drugs. Even just the patches slow me way down. I can feel it. It's aweful. There's no way that anyone not in thier right minds could write or do the brilliant things that artists do if they're on drugs. Now, that's not to say that you couldn't use your drug experience or the bizarre things you see while on drugs as subject matter of what you write, but I'm just saying that there's no way that you can write and make sense while you're under the influence to that extent. Even just a li'l influence, like what I've got now, is enough to slow me down so much that it's just like plodding through pea soup to get the bloody thing done, but that just makes me mad and more determined to do it.
Ok, rant over. So, what are you going to say next time you hear that? Bull shit. Very good. Thank you.
