So I did it. 5 days ago they hacked into my hand. Put in my first IV. Doped me up. Gave me 60 Vicodin and sent me on my way. I would like to tell you more about the pain, the recovery, the meds, the nausea but typing with one hand is hard and working out is impossible. So the 30 day challenge has been put on hiatus for a few weeks. Ugh. Till soon.
In twelve hours I will be in the middle of my first ever surgery. It will be on my left hand. And though a thousand people have called to placate me, I am scared. I had the honor of being in a beauitful loving relationship with a great man for many years and today I miss him.
If I sneezed, we went hand in hand to the doctors. He always sat in the room with me while the doctor spoke. And I did the same for him. I know that isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but we both liked doing it for each other. We are both the opposite of a hypochondriac. We hate having to go to get anything checked out so it was nice to know when we were forced to that someone held our hand the entire time and never thought we were being a baby. Even when we were.
It is ironic that this is the first time it is serious. The first time I will have a body part numbed. A bone graft. A pin put in place. And I will walk through the hospital doors alone, undergo the surgery alone and walk out alone. I almost had to beg for a ride and the person offered to pay for a taxi before calling me back tonight to agree to actually drive me.
I am happy and content with my single life. But today made me realize that there are certain gifts that come with having a partner in your life that understands your fears and insecurities and doesn’t judge you for them. In fact they take them in their stride and protect you from yourself.
Going through this process alone does not make me realize that “wow what a strong woman i am facing this fear by myself” but rather “wow i miss having someone around that gets me.” The irony does not escape my that the hand that was once held in his while doctors spoke to me is now being operated on.
This time, no one will be there to hold it.
Perhaps that was the lesson. It is time to stop being content with my love life and open up. This experience is teaching me that. Lets hope this first surgery is my last alone.
Well, well, well. My thirty day challenge to go to the gym everyday and eat healthy and write in this online journal was just that. Thirty days. Which sucks. I miss my healthy lifestyle and daily venting.
So to trick myself, I have issued myself another thirty day challenge. Write here everyday and go to the bar method which apparently is BRUTAL.
What I have learned about myself it that I am great with routine as long as there is a light at the end of the tunnel. So the secret is not to do a thirty day challenge and hope that it becomes a lifestyle but rather have a year with twelve thirty day challenges! Far easier to understand the problem and work with it than to try and rebuild my entire way of living.
So in 48 hours I will start Bar Method. Yes ladies and Gentleman, I am happy to be back.
And PS I may have found a normal boy who lives in Los Angeles. But I have A LOT of issues surrounding the situation. Will discuss tomorrow.
I haven’t written in a week. A WEEK. And an incredible amount has happened since then. I got a brilliant job, sent my two girlfriends who were staying with me back home and became addicted to smoothies. I am working solid for the next ten days and enjoying the quiet of my home before I pass out. So excuse this brain dead entry. But I promise I will fill you in on all the awkward moments that are my life. Even with the success, the ridiculousness of the single world follows me.
Since all of my correspondence is online, I should describe the machine that tells my stories. It is a Mac PowerBook G4 that I bought in 2002. Eight years ago. About three years ago, it decided that keeping its memory and turning on was for jerks and so decided to stop. Wiped out all of my photos, stored information and gave me a smily face and nothing else when I pushed the power button. For a kidney and my left leg, I managed to take my Mac to a place that restored everything and got my computer to understand that being functional is cool.
About a year later my fat cat decided that the number four was offensive and pulled it off the keyboard. I managed to mash it back into place. Kinda. And last year the letter T looked at him funny so he ripped it off and ate half. As a result I have no T and have to go back and add most of my Ts to my entry after it is written.
Over the past two years my Mac thought that a paid for fast connection to the internet was too flashy and would humble me by talking a minute or two to load every page. It also thought that the internet was getting too much attention, so would close the application every so often to remind me that I also had iPhoto.
My Mac thinks that the wireless world is a frivolous luxury and stored power on a battery is a waste of time so if it is unplugged is shuts down. Instantly.
My computer also does not have a built in camera so I have a clip on one for the computer which makes me look like I am talking to you from a cave in the Himalayas, thinks youtube and any kind of streaming video is unnecessary and thinks volume over a whisper is obnoxious. Basically my computer is a prudish grumpy tight fisted curmudgeon.
And so these entries take almost an hour to write because of all the technical obstacles. If I had a normal machine, it wouldn’t take more than 10 minutes. Thankfully work is on the way and blissfully work brings money. And money is going to bring me a nice shiny new computer that will do what I say, instead of the other way round. In a couple weeks this relic will be sent to the Smithsonian as a battered antique. And I would love to give you a sentimental wrap up of how much I will miss it, but if you have heard a word I have said you will know I can’t wait to dump the piece of crap and get my hot trophy wife of an Apple.
I am coming for you baby!
I just got off the phone with one of the most melodramatic tortured people I know. We have been friends for over a decade and he made a choice many years ago that put power and fame ahead of family and selflessness. Every so often I hear from him and it is usually one extreme or another. Spinning words of love and wisdom and deep philosophy, or a coldness bordering on a cruelness.
Which made me think. Genuine goodness is what I want from people. People who embody heightened greatness have the ability for the opposite end of the spectrum. Understand I am not saying I want mediocrity, or someone who settles, or who has no drive or passion or light or gift. But a heightened level of greatness usually comes at a cost that I do not desire. And that cost haunts the person in their quiet moments and turns them to places of darkness.
Goodness, not greatness, is what I want to surround myself with. Moments of brilliance and shining will come but it is will come via earning, not trading those you love in for recognition and power.
So though it was an exhausting phone call, it was rewarding. He wanted me to have my eyes opened because of all of his projected enlightenment, but rather it showed me with clarity and compassion what I actually want in myself and my community. So thanks for the call. I learnt a lot.
As previously explained, I do not know how to not give someone my number when they ask. You can’t give a wrong number because 99% of the time they call you on the spot so you can “have theirs.” I can’t be rude and say no, because majority of the time it is a friend of a friend at a party that is asking me and I don’t know how close they are and don’t want to offend someone. And on and on.
As a consequence of this problem, some strange people have my number. One such person called me several times and left messages. I never responded. I then bumped into him at a party and he gave me a talking to. He acted all possessive and weird wanting to know my exact reasons for not calling him back. AKWARD.
Anyway after that night I took him out of my phone. Makes sense, right? Don’t like someone, delete them from your phone. WRONG. THIS DOES NOT MAKE SENSE. Learn from my stupidity, my children.
Two nights ago I was just about to fall asleep and my phone rang. It was a Los Angeles number I didn’t recognize. Because I was sleepy and because I am waiting for news about my job I answered it. Guess who. Yep. “Can’t-Take-A-Hint” Guy.
He was, again, rude. I was caught off guard since it had been over a month since the run in. I got off the phone quickly and then just as quickly PUT HIS NUMBER BACK IN MY PHONE.
Here is the lesson: You can not screen calls of the unlikeables unless you know it is them calling. So make sure you have the number of everyone you don’t want to talk to in your phone. And mark them clearly.
Deleting a number only applies to exes you are trying not to call anyone. it is a removal of temptation (though if you are that tempted by a person you probably have their number memorized). If YOU are the temptation, keep the number so when your phone rings in the middle of the night you can safely press “Ignore” and go back to sleep.
Trust me to have to learn even the simplest common sense lesson the hard way. Ugh how many other numbers have I deleted? Gotta live by the default rule now. Let all unrecognized numbers go to voicemail. So amateur.