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My Profile
Because I can't bear to eulogize Doug - 2008-08-19
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8:03 a.m. - 2004-07-08
Alone again. Ahhhh. Don’t get me wrong, I love my guys. And when the flak hit the fan last week and I was soooo sick they all came through admirably. It just hurts to talk. It hurts to even keep eye contact for long. I need to bob and weave to keep my head muscles from tensing and locking. I don’t know how to talk to people without looking at them. So my conversation is abrupt. I have to keep breaking off. I especially don’t like turning away when they are talking, too rude, and I don’t know how to explain any better than I already have why I keep ‘tuning them out’. I’ve tried, but they don’t seem to understand, “Go ahead, I’m listening” while my face is turned the opposite direction. I’m ‘Complete and Undivided Attention Girl’, they’ve never known anything less. Alone is better. Had company earlier though. Zee came! Yay! She and Lisa both. (Salon Lisa, not Lisa my friend for 30 years.) I made lunch. They fussed at me for cooking, but it wasn’t a bit of trouble. Pasta salad and crescent rolls from a can. The pasta salad is my favorite. I made a ton so I have something to nosh on for a while. It’s just a matter of dicing everything up and throwing it together. Hard boiled eggs, sweet pickles, dill pickles, green apple, onion, peppers, carrots, and a few shallots combined with tuna and cooked pasta. Mayo enough to smooth it together, but not so much it’s juicy. That’s it. Yummy. Zee clipped my mop. It’s very short and rather fuzzy. Mike thinks it’s gym teacher-ish, but that’s because I didn’t fix it up. Neither am I wearing make-up or earrings. I suppose without goos, potions, sparklies, and maquillage I do look a bit sporty. Tough noogs. Heh. They’re back. Mike and Wolf, I mean. Not Zee and Lisa. For the first time ever I can honestly say my family is a pain in the neck. (*groan*) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ We’ll be back after a short commercial break and station identification. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ One heck of a station break, it’s the next day. Crashed and burned last night. In bed and unconscious before dark. 5 hours. I’ll be at the doc’s in 5 hours. Despite cautioning myself to patience and rigorously keeping myself back from the edge of hope, when I think about today’s doctor visit I start to cry. I can’t help it. I want so much to feel better. I’m trying to get a tight grip. Crying is the one sure way to make a doctor dismiss you as an over-emotional head case. I cannot nor will not be dismissed as a crazy. I’m almost grateful to the Bell’s palsy, my head is half twisted off my neck, the right side of my face hangs there, I drool and mumble when I speak, surely that’s evidence enough that something is going on with me. Lisa assured me this doctor is kind as well as an expert in infectious disease. I have my doubts. She works with doctors all day. She might be used to them and her idea of kind might be a doctor who just kicks you out himself instead of spitting on you and calling security to toss you out of his office as a hysteric and a time waster. Oh me of little faith. Hey, if you’d been through the hassle I went though to get the original diagnosis of MS 15 years ago you might not trust medicos either. Neurologists are at the top of the Arrogant Bastard heap and I jumped through their hoops for over 2 years. If one does not present with a textbook case of an already well documented disease it’s a given that one will be written off as a loony. Can you tell I’m scared? I’m not scared of what he might find. I can face anything up to and including Ebola, cancer, and AIDS. I’m scared there might be nothing TO find. Or whatever is wrong with me might not be glaringly obvious and thus I’ll be back on the “Have you considered psychotherapy?” Hell train again. Gah. Going around in circles. 4 hours now. I’d pace if I could. Wish me luck, ~LA
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