Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Sometimes silence is better

I want to lead the ‘not quite normal’ life of going out, appreciating graffiti, making food choices off things called ‘menu’s.’ I am a person who still laughs at highly inappropriate sex jokes from Misfits and wants to figure out where to get a VPN to watch season three. I’m still the gal saving up for her tattoo and who wants the energy to shave my pubic hair into odd shapes (do you think a Celtic knot is possible?). I want to see the southern cross. I’d love to go on a road trip.

But now, a part of me is this disease. And sometimes it creates relationship problems and survival living problems, with pain, nausea, and that’s not what I am going to spend my energy talking about. Except that respite ended with two days of vomiting and suffocating at the same time as my diaphragm failed. And I had two more days with fevers and hallucinations of the room filled with severed body parts of babies. People don’t know how much they can endure until they simply have to endure it. I am in and out of the stage where people die simply because they are too exhausted and have lost the will to go on. But those hours and the things I do aren’t ‘me’, but what I do or endure to allow the possibility of ‘me’ sometime, somehow in the future. And it seems for each trip out, or setback, there is more, longer and harder things to do and endure.

So for now, for this last week and a bit, like Thumpers father in Bambi, if I can’t say anything nice, better to say nothing at all.


Baba Yaga said...

Well, bugger. That wasn't the idea, was it?!

Dear Beth's Brain,
More wild horses and light-dappled woods, fewer severed bits of babies. The physical horrors are more than enough. Distraction, not amplification, please.

There's a piece of graffiti I sometimes see from the bus which I think you'd like: wonkily, "I'LL decide...."

I always hope that was a true prediction by whoever it was.

Anonymous said...

aww sorry to hear the respite ended so roughly.. sending prayers love and comfort to you both

Anonymous said...

Does this mean u r not going to blog anymore???

cheryl g said...

I want the not quite normal life for you too. I am sorry the respite wasn't a respite after all. I wish you could be spared the pain, the fevers and the nasty hallucinations.

I wish you peace and recovery and increasing strength.

Crawford said...

Hang in there. This probably seems like the 16th round by now, but I think you've still got the Thomas Hearns jab lurking in reserve for you. Don't be afraid to throw it if you need to.


Linda McClung said...

I was disappointed that things didn't work out. With all our planning, especially the phone calls you made, things were not as they were promised and you had to suffer because of it.

It also felt like fate was conspiring against you as your regular lunchtime workers were both off and they were sending you newbies.

I believe we'll find a better solution.

I am glad the hallucinations are gone. I can't imagine what they are like to experience. As a bystander I felt like my reassurances that they didn't really exist and your brain was playing tricks wasn't very effective. I wanted to take them all away.

imascatterbrain said...

I'm with Crawford, except my boxer has been Buddy McGirt since I saw him at MSG....

Oh, right, C's point was your pugnacity, not your boxing faves.

UH, what? Oh, right; I always get strength from reading your bog, ESPECIALLY since neither of us has had a normal life, and we don't have to be As Expected....

UH, thanks!

Neil said...

I guess hallucinations are one thing that AREN'T better when you're a lesbian? Waiter: more sexy anime dreams at table 7, please!

Given how well your skin heals, a tattoo might not be the best choice. But a celtic knot shaved into pubic hair? Go ahead and try, dear, and by all means report back, but PLEASE do NOT show us the results! :)

Some things are just better left to the imagination.

If it helps, the Southern Cross is in this photo: http://apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap100514.html

However, if you want to see the real thing, why don't you and Linda and I dump Canada for one *good* hallucination, and fly down to Chile and the European Southern Observtory for a couple of nights' observing on the telescopes there? There's a very nice single-engine plane that I have fantasized about owning (yeah, right), and it would be just right for my family and you, Linda and Cheryl.

Yes, well, maybe if I had ten million dollars kicking around that I wanted to be rid of... And the vision and health to be able to qualify for a pilot's licence.

Love and zen hugs, and pleasanter dreams,

GirlWithTheCane said...

Thinking of you, Beth, and wishing there was more that I could do from here... - Sarah